


It Was Written in the Stars

by Frickles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Divination, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frickles/pseuds/Frickles
Summary: Petunia's love for astrology rubbed off on her nephew. So when Harry Potter met Sybil Trelawney, a real-life seer who could tell the future, it was only natural that he'd be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Follow the coming of age journey of a young boy, a child of Prophecy, as he divines the secrets of fortune, friendship, fame, and just might find love along the way.If you want to read the story with italics, emboldened words, and proper formatting, check it out on FFN. Ao3 doesn't handle the conversion well.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**June 8, 1992**

Harry groggily opened his eyes, feeling a lingering stiffness in all of his limbs. He blindly reached out for his glasses, quickly realizing he was not alone when someone placed them in his hands.

"Headmaster?"

"Harry, I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Before Harry could respond, the no-nonsense mediwitch, Poppy Pomfrey interrupted, "I'll determine that, thank you very much."

After a lengthy round of diagnostic charms, Pomfrey declared him 'well enough' and withdrew, allowing Dumbledore and Harry some privacy to resume their conversation.

"Are Ron and Hermione all right, sir?"

"They are indeed. Mr. Weasley was released the morning after the incident with nothing more than bumps and bruises, while Ms. Granger was banned from the Hospital Wing within hours of your arrival. I suspect you'll have quite a bit of explaining to do before she is satisfied." Dumbledore smiled genially at the young Gryffindor.

Harry's expression didn't change. "Sir, what happened beneath the Third Floor Corridor…"

The Headmaster interrupted, "I understand, Harry. Judging from the remains, or lack thereof, of Professor Quirrell, your distress is perfectly reasonable. Please, though, trust the wisdom of an old man when I say that _you did not kill him_. Quirinus forfeited his life the moment he accepted Voldemort's possession. From then on, there was only one way his story was going to end; unfortunately, you happened to have a front-row seat for the event."

Harry stared emotionlessly at Dumbledore, memories of his cries of rage mixing with Quirrell's screams of agony; of feeling the flesh slough off the Defense Professor's neck, Harry's hands eventually breaking through the skin and muscle until he felt the wet, solid bone of his spinal cord. Maybe Quirrell was _dying_ , but Harry certainly hastened the process along.

"Harry?"

"He-, Voldemort, he said that my mother and father died because they wouldn't step aside. He was after me, not my parents. Why?"

Dumbledore sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, stroking his beard and seemingly weighing his options. "It is true, that he came to your family's home for you, alone. He was given information that you would one day be a threat to him, and he sought to end your life as an infant."

"What information?"

Dumbledore stood from the bed, adjusting his own spectacles. "I'll ask that you please, yet again trust me that for now, you are not ready to hear that. Enjoy your summer, Harry; there is plenty of time in the future before you need concern yourself over this matter. Now, allow me to fetch Madam Pomfrey to see about your release."

Harry sat pensively, hardly responding even when Madam Pomfrey pronounced him cleared to leave the Hospital Wing. It was the last day of classes, so he made his way to the Library. There was _no_ way he'd be able to stand not having _some_ sort of answer before he left for summer. Harry stepped up to Madam Pince's desk, cursing his reputation as a rule-breaker as the librarian glowered down at him.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Ma'am, I was wondering. Are there any books about telling the future?"

Harry, following her instructions, quickly found himself before an entire row of books under the heading " **Divination** ". He grabbed one that didn't look too thick, sat down, and started to read.

* * *

**June 10, 1992**

"You sure you're all right, mate?"

"For the last time, I'm fine, Ron. Look, your family's waiting."

"Want to come over and say hello? You know Mum'll be pleased, and Ginny'd go spare if I didn't at least offer."

Right, the younger sister who apparently thought the sun shined out of his arse. "I'd better not keep my relatives waiting. I'll just follow Hermione out the portal; have a good summer, Ron!"

"You too, Harry!"

"I'm really glad you're okay; you know, after everything that happened at the end of term." Hermione had been hovering over him like a second shadow ever since his release from the Hospital Wing.

"Don't you start, too. Like I told Ron, I'm fine."

"Okay. Do you think you'll be spending so much time in the Library next term?" Harry had been practically camping out there, devouring as much as he could about Divination, and… _prophecy._

"Probably, at least until I find what I'm looking for."

Hermione screwed up her face, about to launch into another speech about the dodginess of that particular field of study when a handsome couple in their early 40s called her name. "Oh! That's my Mum and Dad. Would you like to meet them?"

Harry started to walk in their direction, before he caught sight of Vernon, eyes narrowed in anger at being made to wait for his loathsome nephew. "Maybe next time, Hermione, I better not make my Uncle wait any longer." He secured Hedwig's cage to his trunk and hurried away.

Hermione tracked his departure, a deep frown present on her face. ' _Poor Harry.'_

* * *

"Your cousin will be back from Smeltings in the morning; Your aunt spent the night at a motel to make sure she was able to pick him up bright and early. Now, I'll expect you to get to work right away with your chores. I've left a list for you on the refrigerator."

Harry popped into the kitchen and came back holding his assignment. "Is this for the summer?"

Vernon's eyes flashed. It had been downright pleasant not having Petunia's nephew underfoot the last year. He'd been almost able to forget that one abnormality in his otherwise pristine life. "It's for today, you lazy sod! Now get to it!"

Several hours later, Harry came back inside having weeded the garden and pruned the roses. "Uncle?" The man, seated in front of the telly, responded with a grunt. "Shall I make dinner?"

"I went and had fish and chips, so you won't be cooking this evening. Pet will prepare some lunch for Dudley's return. I'm sure you have some of… your kind's food to tide you over." Vernon clearly had censored his preferred term for wizards.

"Okay." The sun now having set, Harry got to work, polishing all of the brass before making his way up to the smallest bedroom. Checking on Hedwig, he gave her some owl pellets and refilled her water before falling asleep, stomach grumbling all the while.

The next day, he cooked breakfast for Vernon and had just finished scouring the pots and pans when Petunia and Dudley made their entrance. Vernon's mood, up til then as dour as ever at being stuck taking care of Harry, instantly did a 180-degree turn. Dudley regaled his parents about all of the things that had changed since Vernon went to Smeltings, and the two of them compared experiences like old chums.

"Hi, Aunt Petunia, did you have a good year?" Harry took two of Dudley's schoolbags that he had left in the car from her arms.

His relationship with his aunt was probably the only thing that kept him sane during his difficult childhood. Harry didn't understand the legal definition of 'child neglect', so he was unaware of the depths that his relatives descended to in denying him basic needs like medical treatment or regular meals. Given that he lacked such _basic_ things, love, care, and affection were certainly absent as well.

"It was fine, Harry. I saw you pruned the rose bushes. You need to be more careful when you're weeding, however; it looks like you pulled up some ivy that I had planted last week."

"I'm sorry, I'll pay closer attention this afternoon. Would you like to see the horoscopes? I saved the _Telegraph_ for you." Petunia was a firm believer in astrology; every Sunday morning, she'd force Vernon and Dudley to listen to their horoscopes. Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, or when Harry had done well at cooking the family dinner, she would read his to him as well.

For Harry, this small token act of kindness had become a lifeline throughout his years at Privet Drive, the sign he'd searched for since his earliest memory that his mother's sister cared about him. He savoured every time that she would tell him to be quiet and learn what was in store for Leos that day. After all, if she read the horoscopes for her family every week, that must mean that she loved him at least _a little_ bit. It was the kind of thing that made life bearable for Harry Potter.

"Not today. Take Dudley's things up to his room."

"Just a sec. My phys ed teacher says that I've got the perfect build for a heavyweight boxer, Da! Look, he lent me some of the school's gloves," Dudley reached into his bag and removed a pair of bright-red boxing gloves. "He said there's no way I wouldn't make the junior team by my third year if I practised with a bag all summer."

"My son, a boxer! Well, I can tell you right now, you don't need a bag. You won't improve that way."

"But, Da, the teacher said-"

"Dudders, hitting a punching bag is nothing like real boxing. You need to experience the real thing. You can practice with your cousin, an hour a day."

Harry recognized the numerous red flags that rose with that idea. "But I haven't any gloves, Uncle."

Vernon turned, nostrils flaring in annoyance. "Didn't your aunt tell you to take Dudley's things upstairs? Well? Get moving!"

Harry hurried up the stairs, dragging all of his cousin's things into his room. He hoped his aunt would talk them out of this whole boxing idea.

Unfortunately she was overruled (he assumed), and a half-hour later, he stood shirtless in the back garden, his fists up around his cheekbones, while Dudley strapped on his gloves with a malicious gleam in his eyes.

"Now listen here, boy, Dudley has his gloves on, so his punches will be padded. You _don't_ have gloves, so no hitting my boy bare-knuckled, understood?"

"What am I supposed to do, then?"

"Just try not to get hit. There you go, hands up. All set, Dud?"

"Ready."

' _This is a bad idea'_ Harry thought. His cousin outweighed him by at least two stone, and Harry knew from personal experience how hard Dudley could hit. Running away had always been the best option, but that had been taken away in the fenced-in garden.

 _Whomp!_ Harry's head snapped back as Dudley's jab impacted his face, the followup cross knocking his glasses to the ground. A strong hook into his chest finished the job, sending Harry flat on his back in the grass.

"Get up! It hasn't even been a minute, how is Dudley supposed to improve if you can't stay on your feet?"

"It hurts, Uncle, I-"

" _Get. Up_." His uncle's beefy hand grabbed onto his thin arm, yanking him to his feet. "If you don't want it to hurt, then don't let him hit you full on. I _told_ you to block, didn't I? Go ahead, Dudders."

* * *

Xenophilius Lovegood watched his daughter play in the grassy field surrounding their home, chattering away to the butterflies and beetles.

' _She spends too much time alone'_ he thought sadly, wishing that the Weasley girl would come by as she had in previous years. Since his wife Pandora had died, four years before, Xeno was hesitant to allow Luna out of his sight. He'd switched his magazine, _The Quibbler_ , from reporting on cutting-edge magical research towards more… fanciful aspects of magizoology. It enabled him to stop spending so much time researching at the Ministry or with interviewing experts, and more time to take his daughter on trips to enjoy her youth in different parts of the world.

The unfortunate byproduct of his overprotectiveness, though, was that Luna so rarely interacted with her peers, or with anyone who took a real interest in her, for that matter. Reporting on snorkacks and wrackspurts didn't do much for his professional reputation, which had never been all that esteemed, to begin with, given his longstanding proclivity for publishing research in areas of magic that weren't deemed respectable. The end result of that was that Luna had adopted his eccentricities as her own.

For all that he was protective of her, though, Luna exceeded with her own ironclad devotion to him. She refused to let anyone speak ill of him or _The Quibbler,_ and her vivid imagination gave life to many of the creatures that they travelled in search of. With her leaving for Hogwarts for the first time at the end of this summer, Xeno realized that he'd run out of time to try and acclimate Luna into dealing with the expectations and behaviours of her peers.

' _And of course, now of all times, the Weasley's girl is too busy to spend time with her',_ he grumbled, somewhat unfairly. Both Ginevra, the youngest of the Weasley brood, and her mother had been generous with their time and attention when Pandora had died. They came over regularly to cook and clean and make sure that he was taking care of himself and Luna. Merlin knows that he'd been in no shape to do so, completely lost to his grief.

Luna was no better, having watched her mother die before her very eyes. The girl was near-catatonic for weeks, unresponsive to all but her father. But in the intervening years, he'd brought her out of grief with joyous experiences, searching out every creature he was tipped off to. It didn't matter that they never found what they were looking for; it was all about the journey, about returning that smile to his dear daughter's face.

Maybe if he owled Molly, she'd bring Ginevra over for tea. Luna would need a friend at Hogwarts.

* * *

**July 31, 1992**

Boxing practice was the worst part of summer. Harry couldn't believe he used to think that gardening, or mending clothes was a bother; he'd gladly spend every waking hour doing either, just to escape Dudley's fists.

Vernon was right - Dudley had improved leaps and bounds. The boy had a seemingly preternatural instinct in knowing which way Harry would block or dodge, and was able to instead hit him in a vulnerable and unguarded spot. The lout had put on considerable muscle over the course of the summer, making his blows that much harder.

They were nearing the end of practice, and Harry was, as usual, bleeding from the nose and lip. Aunt Petunia was out, buying ingredients for the dinner he was to prepare for Vernon's business associates that evening, so he wouldn't even be able to have her tend to his injuries with rubbing alcohol, the sole positive daily interaction he had.

Jab, cross, cross. Harry was just so _angry_ , so tired of the pain, the aches, the never-ending soreness.

Uppercut, hook, jab. Why did he have to put up with this? He was good, he did his chores, cooked the meals; he was quiet and never caused trouble. Why wasn't it enough?

Cross, jab, jab. Harry felt a flash of determination, a strange feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He _wasn't_ going to be beaten down anymore.

 _Crack!_ Dudley's head snapped back, his bulky cousin teetering on one leg and finally collapsing into the grass as Harry executed a perfect American hook, his fist too fast for Dudley to react and striking his cousin directly under his left eye.

" _Daaaa!_ He hit me!"

Dudley needn't have cried out, because before he had even hit the grass, Vernon was on Harry, his meaty hands wrapped around his nephew's throat. "You little shite! What did I tell you about bare-knuckled hits?!"

Harry felt his tongue loll out of his mouth, his body jerking and flopping involuntarily as it struggled against his uncle for oxygen. Through the adrenaline-tinged haze, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of deja vu, as he had been in the same position as his uncle when facing Quirrell two months before.

" _LET GO OF HARRY POTTER!"_ Vernon was blasted back by some unseen force, smashing _through_ the fence. Harry, coughing and gasping for air through his abused windpipe, caught sight of an unusual creature standing on the back stoop. He was in for it now...

**A/N: Well, those of you who have me on author alert are probably a little disappointed that I started a new story instead of putting out the next chapter of ASAoV. Sorry, I couldn't resist the call of my muse any longer.**

**This one's Harry/Luna, as you might have guessed from the tags. It won't be the epic that ASAoV is; I'm guessing probably somewhere in the ballpark of 150k. Not action-focused, though jeez I kind of ramped up the violence for Chapter 1.**

**Thanks to Nauze for beta-ing this on the fly and responding to my dictatorial demands (EDIT THIS NOW, I'M PUBLISHING IT TODAY!), so if you ever run across him, spare some sympathy. He's "brit-ifying" it, so hopefully the language differences turn out well.**

**I'm all about this idea, so I'm hoping to update it somewhat frequently. Cheers!**

**-Frickles**


	2. Chapter 2

**July 31, 1992**

"What-, who are you?"

"I is Dobby."

"Er, hello, Dobby. What are you?"

"Dobby is a house-elf."

Vernon was groaning, slowly rolling himself onto his stomach, in preparation of standing up. "Come on, we can talk in my room."

Harry grabbed Dobby's hand, rushing inside and up the stairs. He opened his mouth to ask another question when an owl flew in his open window. Harry swiftly untied the letter, opening the envelope, and glancing over the contents. "Warning for use of underage magic… but I didn't- they must have thought I was the one who used magic!"

"I is sorry, but Is couldn't let Harry Potter come to harm, not when I came to protect him!"

"Slow down, you came here to protect me?"

Dobby bobbed his head up and down, his ears flapping as he did. "Yes. Great danger awaits Harry Potter at Hogwarts - Dobby came to warn you!"

Harry blinked. "Wait, sit down a second, I don't understand. What danger? How do you know about this?"

Tears welled up in the elf's bulbous eyes. "Harry Potter is truly a great wizard, offers Dobby a seat like an equal!"

"Right, well, thanks. Now, about this danger…?"

"Great danger at Hogwarts! Harry Potter must not return!"

"I have to go back. Besides, when you saved me, I was in great danger _here!_ "

This seemed to flummox the elf. "Dobby thought Harry Potter would be safe with muggles. I is sorry!" he began to wail and bash his head against the bedpost.

"Stop! Don't do that, just stop. Let's just talk this-" his attempt to calm down the odd creature was interrupted by a furious shout from the first floor. Uncle Vernon had recovered.

"Dobby, can you keep the door closed? My uncle is upset, and… well, I don't want him to, I mean-"

The elf gazed at Harry, sharing an intimate understanding of what Harry couldn't bring himself to say. A wave of his hand and the bedroom door _squelched_ , not budging despite Vernon pounding and banging on it. After several minutes and numerous loud thumps, the clatter ceased.

"Fine! Stay in there and _rot_ for all I care! No-good little monster, with your freak pets!" Dobby and Harry listened as the man stomped back down the stairs.

Dobby continued to stare at Harry with that unfathomable look. "Here are the letters from Harry Potter's friends. Dobby will do everything he can to protect the Great Harry Potter." The elf vanished with a _pop!_ just as another owl flew in the window.

"A hearing for violating the use of underage magic… sod it all!" Harry crumpled up the parchment and threw it across his room. He wished that Hedwig were here, but he'd sent her off to deliver a letter to Ron the day before.

Poking his tongue out to feel his split lip, Harry winced and grabbed an old shirt, doing his best to wipe off the quickly drying blood that caked his face. He hoped that by the time Dobby's magic wore off, Uncle Vernon would have calmed down.

* * *

**August 2, 1992**

It turned out that his fears over his uncle's retribution had been unfounded. He had awoken the next morning to find several deadbolt locks on his door and a workman outside installing bars on his window. Apparently, his uncle saw fit to simply let Harry starve as punishment.

While he was no stranger to going without food, the lack of water had become a pressing issue. Harry had made it a full day with nothing but the coppery remnants of his own blood wetting his mouth before he gave in and greedily gulped down Hedwig's water. He'd ordered her to return to the Weasley's when she had appeared at his window the day after his birthday, there being no way for her to enter through the barred window.

Embarrassing though it may be, Harry had resorted to attempting to eat some of her owl treats, but the dry texture and lack of water made it almost impossible to swallow. By the evening of the second day of being locked in his room, his sides throbbed in pain, the agony so great that his other injuries were barely noticeable. He felt feverish, sluggish, and lightheaded.

Harry sat down against his door, feeling the grain of the wood on his cheek, listening attentively to the sounds of footfalls every time someone walked up the stairs. Finally, he heard the lighter step of his aunt, walking up the stairs with no one following her.

"Aunt Petunia," he croaked, throat so dry that his voice was barely audible, "Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, it won't happen again. Please, can I just have a little water?"

The sound of her steps paused outside his door, then with no reply he heard the creak of the stairs as she walked back down to the first floor. There was no other approach for some time, though Harry lacked the energy to crawl back to where the mechanical alarm clock Vernon had found at a second-hand shop was visible.

He'd drifted out of consciousness, awakening to a pounding on the door, the sound and vibration nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

"Get away from the door, boy, if you don't want to get hurt!" Harry scrambled away, just in time for the high-pitched whine of a power saw to start up. The tool cut out a square in the bottom of the door, and over the next half-hour, Vernon installed a cat-flap to his bedroom door before stomping back down the stairs, not even trying to hide his angry mutters.

Harry stared, hyper-focused on the one-way flap, and sure enough, the flap opened, his aunt's thin and bony fingers slipping through and placing a disposable cup filled with water on his bedroom floor. He rushed over as fast as he could in his weakened state, desperate to reach her before she withdrew her hand, wanting to hold it to express his gratitude, but was too late. Harry greedily gulped down the water, sobbing in relief.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia, thank you so much... " but before he could even finish his sentence, he heard her descent back down the stairs. He _knew_ she cared.

* * *

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the fireplace in his office. Even empty, Hogwarts was far more invigorating and comfortable than the ICW. Not for the first time, he questioned whether or not his position as the Supreme Mugwump was worth the investment in time. He greeted Fawkes with a gentle stroke, unshrinking his travel bag and placing it next to his desk.

As usual, there was a considerable buildup of correspondence that had built up over his one-week absence. Flipping through the envelopes, his bushy eyebrows drew together in concern as he noticed close to a dozen letters addressed to him, in an increasingly untidy scrawl, from Molly Weasley. Opening the most recent, his jaw dropped in alarm at the information contained within.

Grabbing a pinch of Floo powder, he shouted out "The Burrow!" thanking Merlin he was keyed into the wards and was able to step through immediately.

"Albus! We've been trying to reach you!"

"I'm sorry, I was in Geneva for the annual ICW meeting. I just now received your letters about Harry."

"If we knew where he lived, we would have gone to check on him ourselves; that awful Hopkirk woman wouldn't release his address, even though Arthur practically begged!"

"Are you able to accompany me now?" He held out his arm, and Molly held firmly to his forearm as he apparated them both to Number Four, Privet Drive.

"Nothing seems to be out of order…" Molly said, hesitantly.

"Let's make certain for ourselves, shall we?" Dumbledore strode to the front door, knocking firmly. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Petunia Dursley, her face twisting in revulsion as she saw who had come calling.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Petunia, my dear, so lovely to see you again. We merely came to check on Harry. Would you like to fetch him for us?"

The unpleasant woman made no move to step away from the doorway. "Check on him? You've not set foot in this home for a decade, why did you decide to show up now?"

Molly's jaw dropped, turning towards Albus with anger in her eyes, but Dumbledore didn't react to Petunia's words. "We'll be seeing Harry now."

Petunia tried to slam the door but Dumbledore waved his wand and the door transformed into a tea kettle. "Be a dear and use that to prepare some tea for us, Petunia. Come along, Molly. I believe that Harry was given the bedroom to the right of the staircase last year, was he not?" He received no reply, nor did he wait for one, ascending the stairs with Molly in tow, leaving Petunia holding the kettle that was her front door and gaping in shock.

"Pet? Who was at the door?" Vernon and Dudley emerged from Dudley's room, where Vernon had been demonstrating the proper form of various punches. Both father and son looked as though they'd recently been in a fight, Dudley sporting a black eye, while Vernon was wrapped in bandages and had one arm in a sling. "YOU!"

A wave of Dumbledore's wand left the purple-faced man mute and sent Dudley fleeing back into his room.

"Sweet Morgana, Albus, look at this!" While Dumbledore had been 'greeting' Mr. Dursley, Molly caught sight of the multiple deadbolts and cat flap that adorned Harry's bedroom door. "They've locked him inside!"

Before Dumbledore could even aim his wand in that direction, Molly had whipped her own out and unlocked the door, rushing inside with Albus close behind. A faint "Aunt Petunia?" greeted her, and the sight of the boy curled up on his bed, cradling a paper cup.

If Dudley and Vernon looked like they'd been in _a_ fight, Harry looked like he'd gone nine rounds with the world champion. Both his eyes were blackened, his lip split, an obviously broken nose, cuts on his brow, and, most worryingly, dark purple fingerprints that were a vivid contrast against the skin on Harry's throat. Besides the beatings, someone had unmistakably attempted to strangle the twelve-year-old.

Molly crouched down next to him, gently stroking his hair while Dumbledore cast a series of diagnostic charms. He conjured a large glass and then filled it with an _aguamenti_ charm, pressing it to Harry's lips. As soon as he felt the liquid, the boy seemed to come to.

"Headmaster? Mrs. Weasley?"

"Harry, dear, come along. We're taking you away from here."

"Is this, is it about the hearing for underage magic?"

"We'll deal with that in time. For now, we're leaving. Mrs. Weasley will take you to her home, The Burrow, where you will spend the rest of your summer."

"Are these all of your things, Harry?" Molly looked around the largely empty room at the few possessions, so meagre that her own family's possessions looked opulent by comparison. "Come along, let's get you out of here."

"Wait!" he protested weakly, "I want to say goodbye to my aunt."

"But… why?" Molly was baffled and looked to Dumbledore in confusion. He had no explanation to offer.

"I want to say goodbye, she wouldn't want me to leave without saying goodbye. I don't want to worry her!" Molly looked at the way Harry's oversized shirt hung off him; so undersized and hungry, dying of thirst, beaten black and blue and he actually believed that… that _bitch_ downstairs cared one whit for his well-being?

"Why don't you let me go check on her. You know how uncomfortable your relatives can be when it comes to magic," Dumbledore said, to calm the nearly hysterical boy.

The Headmaster made his way back down the stairs, encountering Petunia still holding the transfigured teapot while she sat at the kitchen table. "Are you leaving?"

"We are. How could you, Petunia? Your own nephew. If she were in your shoes, would Lily have neglected and abused your son in such a manner?"

She didn't hesitate in responding, "I would rather Dudley die alongside us than live with those... " Seeing Dumbledore's expression darken, she lamely finished, "... sorts of people."

"Is that why you didn't object to him being starved and beaten?"

"I tried to keep him alive! But I have to protect my son and husband!"

Dumbledore was… aghast. Not only at Harry's treatment, and Petunia's abject lack of concern for her nephew, but also at the boy's fervent belief that his aunt does, in fact, care for him. This wasn't going to be easy.

He met Molly and Harry at the base of the stairs. "Can I see her?"

Dumbledore met Molly's gaze and gave a small nod, imperceptible to Harry. "She's not available at the moment, unfortunately. I told her you said goodbye."

"Okay." Harry walked with Mrs. Weasley to the edge of the property, where she apparated the boy back to The Burrow.

Dumbledore watched them vanish, then went through the house once more, ensuring that nothing of Harry's remained. He walked through the still-missing front door, removing his wand and making broad, sweeping motions with it. Disassembling wards required fine, delicate spell-crafting. It's part of why both setting up and taking down wards was normally left to professionals.

Given the esoteric nature of the blood wards at Number Four, this standard was even more applicable. Dumbledore was not being careful; what he was currently doing was the warding equivalent of a painter splashing paint remover on a canvas. He was selecting weak spots in his warding arrangement and ripping and pulling them apart.

The end result was that, when they _did_ come down, the magical backlash shattered every window on Privet Drive. Every piece of greenery in the front and back garden withered and died, Petunia's prized rosebush nothing more than a decayed shadow of its original shape. Once the backlash had faded, Dumbledore waved his wand one last time and watched, waiting for just a moment longer, a slow smile spreading across his face before he spun in place and apparated away.

Several minutes later, the walls and roof of Number Four began to rumble, cracks spreading and spiderwebbing along the structure. Every neighbour on the street had come out to observe the most _unusual_ sight by the time that the Dursley's home finally disintegrated. It was so _weird,_ so _strange_ that Petunia and Vernon's reputation for oddities spread beyond Surrey, even receiving mention in both the _Mail_ and the _Mirror_. They'd never be 'normal' again.

* * *

**August 18, 1992**

It had been two weeks since Harry moved into The Burrow, and it had not been an easy adjustment. Parts of it were brilliant - as much food as he wanted to eat (with tastes and flavours that rivalled the spreads at Hogwarts), flying at least every few days with Ron and the Twins, _way_ fewer chores than at Privet Drive, and a comfortable bed to sleep in.

Other parts were less great. The Twins were a bit overbearing, Harry's introversion being such that they quickly exhausted his 'social battery'. Ginny was worse than Ron had made her out to be, seemingly able to communicate solely with squeaks and blushes; she also had made a habit out of following him _everywhere_ , to the point that one day when he'd left the shower in just a towel, she was standing outside the door (ostensibly 'waiting for the loo', though she went back to her room after he'd finished). Other small, trivial annoyances came with an extended stay in a new place.

No, the major issue for Harry came from his best friend and his mother. Mrs. Weasley had sat him down the morning after they arrived and healed his injuries, pressing him about his treatment with his relatives well beyond what he was comfortable with. When she'd asked several pointed questions about his aunt, though, she crossed the line. ' _So what if this summer hadn't been all that great?'_ he thought angrily, ' _Wasn't Aunt Petunia there for him when he needed her? She'd_ saved _his_ life!'

It didn't end, either. Several times per week, Mrs. Weasley would hold him after dinner, sometimes with her husband, sometimes not, and push him to relate more of his experiences with his relatives. Harry didn't much like these conversations, and he'd started to feel as trapped at The Burrow as he had all those years in his cupboard.

Presently, he was stomping through the light woods surrounding The Burrow following a confrontation with Ron. He'd been venting some of his frustrations at Mrs. Weasley's questions about his aunt when Ron, _his best mate_ , had replied offhandedly, "Well, I figure if she really loved you, she wouldn't've let them beat and starve you."

Harry had jumped him, but Ron was a healthy twelve (almost thirteen) year old boy. Harry had little chance, and after a quick wrestle in the dirt, had been pinned by Ron.

"When are you going to figure it out? You're here because if you hadn't left, they would have eventually killed you, Harry! And your aunt would have _let them do it!"_

Even now, the words made him clench his fists. What did Ron know? Aunt Petunia was _his mother's sister!_ Sure, sometimes she had to punish him, and she couldn't show that she cared all the time, but that was only because of Vernon and Dudley.

He'd just pushed his way through a set of bushes when he nearly ran over a small girl. Blinking in surprise, he opened his mouth to greet her when she reached up and held a finger over his lips. "Sshhhhh!" she whispered, her own voice hushed, then she looked around, as though following the trail of something that he couldn't see.

Harry, surprised to meet someone in the middle of the woods, much less a girl on her own, took the opportunity to look her over more closely. Her hair extended nearly to her waist, so blonde that it was almost white, shining in the twilight. Protruding silver eyes added to her ethereal appearance, her gaze darting back and forth somewhere over his head. On further examination, she wasn't as young as he'd first assumed, perhaps only a year or two younger than himself; just petite and rather, well, tiny; shorter even than Ginny, who even he towered over.

She removed her finger, a bright smile gracing her features. "Okay. Are you collecting wrackspurts as well?"

"Huh? No, I was just, uh, taking a walk."

"There's no reason you can't do both, you know," she said very matter-of-factly.

"What are wrackspurts, and why do you collect them?"

"They're tiny magical creatures that frequently infest wizards and witches, causing confusion and general turmoil. Daddy wrote a whole series of articles about them in his magazine."

"Oh, I see." He paused, weighing her words. "Wait, why would you want to be confused?"

"I knew you were collecting them!"

Harry realized she must be telling the truth because he was quite confused. "Um, are you lost? Why are you in the middle of the woods?"

"Daddy says in order to be lost, you must first have a destination."

"I guess that's true."

"Were you trying to get to somewhere? You seemed in quite a hurry."

"No, just, uh, trying to clear my mind."

"Right," she said authoritatively, latching onto his hand, "I've got just the thing!"

Harry allowed her to lead him through the light forest, as the remnants of dusk vanished. Night had fallen by the time they entered a clearing, centred by a tall house in the shape of a chess piece. "You live here?"

"That's right. Come along, I'll fix you right up." Since she was no longer leading him, he pulled his hand away from hers.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Luna. Luna Lovegood."

**A/N: I can already hear the reviewers complaining about how Harry doesn't actually care about his Aunt that way. I don't feel like it is unrealistic for Harry to latch onto the small AU act of kindness that Petunia provides (sharing horoscopes with Harry), and deluding himself into believing that she actually loves him. For a neglected/abused child, that's the kind of thing that allows them to make sense of the injustices that happen to them.**

**This story is nothing like my other two - believe it or not, I'm going to try and make this one more lighthearted. No OP!/super!Harry. In fact, I'd say this is probably going to be as close to canon!Harry as I'll ever write.**

**He finally meets Luna. It was hard writing her pre-Hogwarts, before the bullying and schoolyard cruelty.**

**This chapter was 3.5k words thereabouts. I think that 3-5k words per chapter will probably be what I aim for with most chapters. It makes it more realistic for me to be able to publish this while still pouring it on with ASAoV.**

**Stay happy, healthy, and safe!**

**-Frickles**


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello poppet, who's this you brought home?"

"Hi Daddy! I found him in the woods, just east of the stream. He's been infested by wrackspurts."

"Oh my, well, it's good that you ran across him. There's no telling how long he might have wandered out there."

Harry remained quiet, the tall and rotund figure of Luna's father reminding him of a slightly less heavy-set Vernon, despite his friendly demeanor.

"My thoughts exactly. Come along, silly, we need to start the soup!"

"Er, what soup?" Harry's confusion had long since overridden his foul mood from earlier.

"Radish soup, of course! To chase away the wrackspurts!" Luna looked surprised to see this solution was news to him.

"Luna, dear, aren't dirigible plums a defense against nargles, not wrackspurts?"

"Oh!" A blush formed on her cheeks, her fair skin and light blonde hair making the color that much more of a contrast. "Of course! Back outside we go!"

"Just a minute. Hello young man, I'm Xenophilius Lovegood. What were you doing out in the woods?"

"I'm staying with the Weasleys for the remainder of summer, and I was- I just felt like taking a walk."

"All right then," Xeno nodded, as if that vague response were explanation enough, "I'll let Molly know that you'll be staying for dinner."

"But you just said that soup doesn't-"

"You'd best hurry along with my daughter, your infestation seems to be getting worse."

"Oh no! This way, quickly!"

Luna once more grabbed his hand and walked him out of the house. The difference in their height meant that although her pace was hurried Harry could maintain a casual stride behind her. They walked in the opposite direction of the Burrow, eventually coming to a gentle hillock that descended towards a grassy field. In the distance, he could make out the homes and shops of what must be Ottery St. Catchpole proper. It was a pleasant view; the late afternoon heat had given way, there was a light breeze against his face, and the gentle movement of the wind on the tall grass below was relaxing in its own way.

"This is really nice," he commented quietly, eyes still locked on the horizon, "Thank you for bringing me he- _whoa!"_

His exclamation came as Luna, without hesitation or warning, shoved him down the hillside, Harry rolling and tumbling in the soft grass. He sat up and shook his head, though he couldn't tell if it were the fall or the strange girl that was the source of his dizziness. Seconds later, Luna came rolling to a halt beside him, having thrown herself down the hill shortly after pushing him.

"What was that for?!"

"Sometimes the only way to clear out wrackspurts is to shake them loose! I can tell you're already feeling better."

Harry wasn't sure her solution had worked, as he was still rather confused, but Luna looked so happy and carefree it was hard to be upset. Besides, rolling down the hill had been quite fun. "Hey, I think I might need some more treatments to get all of them. Want to go again?"

"Race you to the top!"

* * *

Harry liked the Lovegoods. Even when they'd finally gotten around to asking his name (as they were clearing the dishes before dessert), neither Xeno nor Luna had so much as glanced toward his scar. They both seemed quite knowledgeable about magical creatures, and were very kind and not at all judgmental that he apparently knew so little.

"How would you feel about visiting again this summer?" Xeno asked as he set the dessert down on the table, a traditional plum pudding. "Luna's starting her First Year at Hogwarts, you know."

"I'd like that, sir." Harry said politely, before turning to the girl seated to his left. "Which House do you reckon you'll land in?"

"Oh, any will do. I'm very excited to start school; I got my wand last week and everything!"

"That's great. If you're in Gryffindor, I'll help you out with your homework. Or we could just ask Hermione; might be better off getting her help."

Luna glanced at him with her wide, silvery eyes and leaned over to start eating his pudding, having finished her own. "Does that mean we can't study together if I'm not in Gryffindor?"

"Well, no. That'd be fine, too." Come to think of it, though, Harry didn't know a single student outside of Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin hanger-ons notwithstanding. "Here, you can just take my bowl, you don't need to sit so close."

Luna pouted, but sat back as he slid his bowl in front of her. "It doesn't taste quite as good to steal someone else's food if they move it in front of me. This just feels like I'm having seconds."

Harry let out a dramatic sigh, but smiled inwardly as he took the bowl of half-finished pudding and returned it to its original place in front of him. "How's that?"

She scooted her chair closer and dipped her spoon in the bowl, closing her eyes as she chewed. "Yum!"

Harry waited until she'd finished his pudding, turning down the offer of seconds despite the doe-eyes she aimed at him. No doubt she'd planned on eating that, too. Instead, he gathered the bowls and made his way into the kitchen, looking around for a scrub brush.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Xeno had followed him into the kitchen.

"I just thought I'd help with the dishes, sir."

"Nonsense, young man, no need for that. All it takes are a few Charms and it'll be clean as a whistle!"

"All right. Thank you very much for dinner, Mr. Lovegood. I should probably be heading back to the Burrow, I don't want Mrs. Weasley cross with me."

"I suppose that would be best, though I know Luna wouldn't mind if you were to stay longer. Come along, let's have you say your goodbyes and you can Floo back to the Weasleys."

Despite being a bit uncomfortable with the embrace Luna gave him, as well as the whirling sensation of taking the Floo for the first time (Harry decided he'd be walking back the next time he came to visit), it had been a really great day. He was so pleased, in fact, that he couldn't even remember why he'd been so upset when he'd arrived in the first place.

* * *

**August 19, 1992**

"Come along, Harry, we mustn't dawdle." Tearing his eyes away from the grand golden statutes and the fountain in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, Harry quickened his pace to catch up with Dumbledore, pausing in front of what seemed to be a poor imitation of a security checkpoint.

"Wand, please."

"A little less than chipper this morning, Grant?"

The man who'd barely acknowledged their presence beyond holding a single hand out suddenly sat straight up in his seat. "Prof- I mean, Chief Warlock, sir! My apologies, it's not often that you use the public entrance."

"Just thought I'd allow young Harry to immerse himself in the full experience of our Ministry. I trust there's no problem with allowing us entrance?"

"None at- blimey, is that Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly and with a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder led him to the lifts. They ascended several floors, exiting to a corridor that was filled with paper airplanes whizzing to and fro, and bureaucrats that looked exhausted despite it being just after breakfast.

"Government work, Harry. There's not many that retain the passion for rules and regulations that it entails."

"Bet Hermione would think it's brill, though."

Dumbledore chuckled, and they stopped outside a closed door. "I don't doubt you're right. Now, here we are. You need not worry, this is all a mere formality." He opened the door and they stepped inside.

Mafalda Hopkirk, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office regarded him with a sour expression; next to her, Gawain Robards, the Head Auror, and Arnold Peasegood, the Head Obliviator rounded out the remainder of the three-person tribunal that would judge his hearing.

Hopkirk read aloud the magical acts that had taken place at Number Four, detailing the banishment of Vernon through the fenceline and the sealing of Harry's bedroom. Despite her scandalized tone, neither of the two men's faces shifted from looking extremely bored.

"And owing to this flagrant use of magic, in plain view of muggles, I recommend that we- Minister Fudge? What are you doing here?"

A jovial, portly man twirling a lime green bowler's hat walked into the hearing as though he were strolling on stage at the London Theatre. "Good morning Mafalda! I apologize for arriving so late, but the missus made the most savory breakfast tarts for me and I just couldn't drag myself away from the table until I'd finished every last one."

"Minister, this is highly irregular, we're in the middle of our hearing!"

"Of course, of course. That's exactly why I've come. Here, I had Delores draw this up last night." He handed a sheaf of parchment to Hopkirk. "We appreciate your dedication, but in the case of someone so prominent in magical society, it's best that there be a more high-profile adjudicator."

"You're… you're relieving me? I was just about to announce my decision!"

"Then I'd say my timing is impeccable, is it not?" Still twirling his hat, Fudge looked infuriatingly confident. Hopkirk slammed down the parchment with an audible snarl, and stormed out of the room.

Fudge wandered towards her abandoned seat and poked the case folder she'd been reading from like he was touching a poisonous snake. "Now that I'm in charge of this hearing, I'm ready to make my decision. Harry Potter's use of magic on the 31st of July has been found to be justified and lacking in any impropriety. Case dismissed!" Robards and Easegood hadn't gained any interest despite the drama that had just unfolded before their eyes, and didn't react to Fudge's obvious favoritism, merely gathering their things and hurrying out of the office.

Dumbledore winked at Harry as Fudge approached, holding out his hand to greet the Minister. "I told you there was nothing to worry about, Harry."

* * *

**August 31, 1992**

Ginny Weasley slowly stepped over the loose stair, then twisted her body to avoid the worn down floorboard that creaked. All of the Weasley children (' _except Percy, probably')_ had memorized where and how to silently traverse the Burrow over the years, the knowledge marking a rite of passage of sorts to avoid the watchful gaze of their mother.

The summer had not worked out how she'd hoped. When her mother had returned with Harry, it was the most exciting moment to that point in her life. That the boy was a shattered wreck and needed days of recovery didn't phase her at all. Harry was a hero; he'd survived the Dark Lord and saved the Philosopher's Stone, there was nothing his muggle relatives could do to seriously hurt him.

Nonetheless, Ginny's hopes for a summer romance were quickly dashed. Harry was often moody, and when he was open to spend time with her and her brothers, her nerves caused her to clam up. It was so frustrating! She knew that if he'd just give her a chance to relax, that he'd see how perfect they'd be together. Ginny knew _everything_ about him - she'd memorized all of his adventures by the time she'd turned eight years old, and Bill and her parents assured her that she was one of the prettiest little girls in all of England.

But then Harry had gone and wandered off to meet the Lovegoods. Since then, he'd taken to going over to The Rookery at least every other day, often not coming back until after dinnertime. What was wrong with her family? Ron and the twins didn't seem bothered, and when she'd complained they just told her that Harry had a rough summer and to let him do what makes him happy. Didn't they realize that they were ruining _her_ summer?

As for Luna, well, Ginny wasn't going to forget her betrayal. After everything that she and her mother had done for the Lovegoods, how could she go and steal Harry away like that? She knew how much Ginny liked him! Her resentment burned in her stomach. No, Ginny wouldn't forget about Luna…

She pressed her ear to the door of the dining room, listening to the conversation taking place between her parents and Harry. Her mother insisted on the other children going up to their rooms whenever she and Harry had one of their after-dinner chats, and with summer ending Ginny could no longer hold back her curiosity.

"... you're absolutely positive? The Headmaster would authorize the payments for a mind healer from your trust vault, and St. Mungo's can guarantee absolute confidentiality."

"No thank you. I don't need it."

Ginny could hear the disappointment in her mother's voice. "Well, while we were picking up school supplies, Arthur and I did some research at Flourish and Blott's. Have you ever thought of keeping a journal?"

"For what?"

"Sometimes it's easier to express yourself when no one's listening. It's just something to think about, Harry. We can send you a journal of your own any time you like. And of course we're only an owl away if you ever need to talk."

"I'm really fine, Mrs. Weasley. And I'm grateful for you letting me stay with you for the last month. Maybe next summer my Aunt will let me visit again."

There was no response to that for a long moment, then her dad replied, "Maybe so. You'll always be welcome at the Burrow. Now why don't you go upstairs and finish packing, we'll be leaving bright and early tomorrow morning for King's Cross."

Ginny scrambled away, hastily retracing her route back up the stairs, flying into her room and digging through the school supplies she'd got in Diagon Alley the day before. Hearing the tell-tale rattle of the loose stair as Harry stepped on it, she grabbed what she'd been looking for, screwed up her courage, and opened her bedroom door with perfect timing.

"H-hi Harry, I, uh," she took a deep, shuddering breath, "I wasn't-, I mean I was just going to the bathroom."

Harry gave her a side-eyed look and made a "hm" noise, stepping back to allow her to pass.

"B-but, since you went to Diagon with the Lovegoods last week instead of with us," Ginny was proud that her voice didn't change saying the name, "I wanted to show you my, um, my wand! Twelve and a half inches, yew and unicorn hair."

"It's… nice. Congratulations, nothing quite like finally getting one, is there?"

Feeling encouraged at his response, some of her nervousness evaporated. "I'm really lucky that none of the family wands matched with me. Ron has to use a hand-me-down. It wasn't a perfect match, but it was good enough."

"Oh, I never knew."

"But I got _you_ something while we were picking up our books. Here!"

Harry looked at the diary she'd given him, the one she'd discovered with her textbooks. "It's blank."

"It's a journal. I thought you might like it."

Harry looked suspiciously at her, and Ginny cursed her impetuousness. ' _Why did I think_ now _was the right time? He must know I was eavesdropping!'_ "I er, I mean it's-, some wizards like to keep journals. You know, as a tradition, to document their time at Hogwarts."

"Okay. Thanks, Ginny." He stepped past her and continued down the hall to Ron's room.

She watched him walk away, pleased that there wasn't even a hint of warmth in her cheeks. Every time he wrote in that diary, he'd think of her. He'd remember it was Ginny who was waiting with exactly what Harry needed. ' _Beat that, Lovegood'_ she thought with a smile.

LINE BREAK

"Hurry, children, we're running late! Arthur, I _knew_ that taking that silly car of yours was a bad idea!" The Weasley family was hustling through King's Cross, rushing through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters one at a time. Mrs. Weasley sent Ginny through first, then followed behind. Mr. Weasley motioned the twins through one at a time, looking worriedly after them and decided they needed a chaperone. He was next, then Percy, then Ron.

Harry straightened his trolley and took off towards the barrier at a light jog, only to tumble forward, nearly knocking Hedwig's cage to the ground. Blocking the path to the barrier stood Dobby, the diminutive elf standing with one hand outstretched.

"Dobby? What are you doing?"

"Harry Potter must be careful. Great danger awaits at Hogwarts!"

"You said that before, but that's not enough information! You have to tell me more!"

The small creature held onto his ears and shook his head violently. "Dobby cannot! Harry Potter is very important, but Dobby cannot!"

"Then I'll just need to be very careful, I guess. Will you let me pass?"

Dobby regarded him seriously, measuring him as he'd done back at Privet Drive, then stepped aside. "Dobby believes Harry Potter is a great wizard."

"I won't let you down."

Hurrying through the portal, he saw Arthur waiting expectantly for him. "Harry, we were getting worried you'd decided not to follow."

"Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew."

Mr. Weasley smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "It's all right, think nothing of it. If I'd gone through what you did at the end of last term, I'm not sure I'd be eager to get back, either."

Belatedly, Harry realized that Mr. Weasley was referring to the Philosopher's Stone incident. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"You'd best board the Express; we were running late as it is, it's about to leave. Have a good term!"

Quickly wrestling his trunk on board the train, he barely made it a few steps into the first car before the train rumbled and started moving, nearly sending him toppling forward. After he'd regained his balance, he passed from one carriage to the next, seeking out his friends, finally locating them mid-way through the train.

"Harry! It's such a relief to see you again, you don't know how worried I was this summer!"

"C'mon, Hermione, I sent you a letter after my hearing. You know it was no big deal."

She mock-glared at him, looking like she wanted to give him a hug but restrained herself. "I'm allowed to be concerned. Ron was telling me about the time you spent at the Burrow." Ron had a look that was far too old for a twelve-year old.

"It was nice. The Weasley's were really kind to let me stay for the month."

In typical Hermione fashion, she pressed on. "He told me what happened with your family, and-"

"Just stop," Harry interrupted, "I don't want to talk about that with you, and _especially_ not with him. Can't you leave it be, Ron?"

"She deserves to know. She was worried; hell, I'm still worried! You didn't see how you looked when Mum brought you back, mate."

Setting Hedwig's cage on the seat next to him, Harry jerked his trunk up into the luggage rack. "I'm going to find the snack trolley; I'll be back when you've finished gossipping about me."

Shutting the carriage door before they had a chance to reply, Harry took a deep breath and set off down the corridor once more. ' _Can't they ever leave well enough alone?'_ He'd spent the last month having dredge up his worst memories with Mrs. Weasley; did Ron want him to have to go through more of the same with _Hermione_ , for Merlin's sake? He walked into the next carriage, catching sight of a few familiar faces inside a compartment.

Knocking on the glass portion of the sliding door, he waved at Ginny and Luna. Both of their expressions transformed as they caught sight of him - Luna's from solemn to cheerful, and Ginny's from stormy to embarrassed, a blush breaking out on her freckled face.

"Hi girls; Luna, I'm going to grab some snacks from the trolley, can you come along? Ginny, I'm sitting with your brother and Hermione one carriage up if you wanted to wait with them."

"W-well, Luna and I hadn't finished our, our conversation-"

"Sorry to interrupt your talk, but I'll need help carrying the food back; you know how your brother is!" Luna stood up and exited the compartment, Harry sliding the door closed behind her. "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine, I believe Ginevra is just nervous about going to Hogwarts. You know the Sorting Ceremony is rather mysterious."

Harry chuckled, remembering Ron's fears about having to wrestle a troll to decide his House placement. "Well, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but it's really just a mangy old hat that you have to wear."

"A hat, you say?" Meeting her wide silvery eyes, Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Let's go get in line for the trolley, and I'll tell you all about it."

Several minutes later, arms laden with chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, and cauldron cakes, the two returned to Ron and Hermione's compartment.

"Mind budging over, Ginny? Luna and I were going to sit next to Hedwig." A flash of that same expression she'd had earlier crossed her face, but it went past in a moment and she stood and sat next to Ron, leaving the two of them to take their seats.

"Here you go, guys, we got enough for everyone."

Ron immediately tucked in, while Hermione regarded the younger girl. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Hermione Granger."

"I'm Luna Lovegood, it's nice to meet you," she replied, shaking Hermione's hand.

"Luna's neighbors with the Weasleys, I met her over the summer." Harry opened up a chocolate frog, snagging the candy as it leapt out of the package. "She knows loads about magical creatures, I can't wait to introduce her to Hagrid."

While he was speaking, Luna's hand darted out and stole his chocolate frog, taking a bite and casting an innocent glance at Harry. His only response was to laugh and reach out for another, giving the small girl a little nudge with his shoulder as he did so.

Seeing his relaxed expression and easy demeanor, Hermione cocked her head and gave the blonde girl a closer look, suddenly finding her a great deal more interesting than she had a moment earlier.

The train hurtled down the tracks, speeding towards Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts beyond.

**A/N: Hey! Whaddya know, another chapter :D I've been trying to write more on my other stories, rather than focus on ASAoV; that one is at the point where I don't really want to write anything else, but I am not interested in abandoning this or The Meaning of Home. So here we are!**

**I've been mapping this story out, and like I said in a previous A/N, this is going to be lighthearted. I would say 'comedy', but I'm an extremely unfunny person haha.**

**Hope you enjoy! -Frickles**


	4. Chapter 4

**Personal message at the end!**

"Oh, honestly. He's at it again."

"C'mon mate, you're worse than _Hermione_!"

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean, Ronald?" The aforementioned girl asked, waspishly.

"Err, nothing, just that-" Ron threw his hands up in exasperation, realizing there was no good answer. "See? It's all this time in the library, does queer things to a bloke!"

"Well, I hardly think that spending time in a library is a problem," Hermione said primly. "Though surely you could use your time to study something more useful."

Harry might have found their routine amusing had it not already grown stale, less than a month since the term had started. "Did you two only track me down to complain? Because if so-"

"Well…" Hermione began, biting her lip and trailing off. Ron meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, tossing a stray gobstone back and forth between his hands. "Don't you think if we're going to spend so much time in the library, that we should work on our assignments?"

"Later," Harry mumbled, pulling another book off the stack in front of him and perusing the table of contents. "This is important."

"But- just because of something Dumbledore mentioned, in passing? You don't even know for sure that it was related to Divination!"

"What else could it be? 'Information about the future', Hermione!" This had become something of a sore spot between the two.

"It's just, I asked Professor McGonagall about our options for electives next year, and she didn't seem to hold Divination in very high esteem."

Ron gave a sly grin, "Bet it'll be an easy pass, though. I know I'll be taking it."

"Your brother says it's an important subject, and a useful way to think about the future," Harry countered.

" _Which_ brother?"

"Percy." Ron rolled his eyes, as though that were response enough. "Well, he did."

"Harry-" Hermione bit back whatever she'd intended to say, as a curly-haired blonde sat down at their table.

"You're studying Divination? Does that mean you're going to take it next year?"

Harry nodded, their argument quelled at this new arrival. "Yes. I've been reading up on it as much as I can; it's really rather amazing!"

Lavender Brown smiled widely, pulling on one of her long curls. "I think so too! I can't wait! I never thought to read about it in the library, though."

His own lips pressed in a grim line, Harry shrugged with one shoulder. "I'd rather not wait a whole year to start learning."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, Divination's like, an _art_. You can read about it all day, but _experiencing_ it, being guided by the hand of Fate herself…! Harry, you won't find that in a book." Lavender sat back, a bit breathless, while Harry leaned forward towards her, as though drawn by magnetic force.

"You've done it? You've seen the future?" He asked intently.

"Well, not yet. But Professor Trelawney allows students from any year to join her on weekly outings. The only requirement is that you be open to what your inner eye reveals," Lavender said, her voice taking on a mystical overtone.

Hermione scoffed, while Ron eyed Lavender speculatively. Harry though, remained focused. "Trelawney, she's the Divination Professor, isn't she?"

Lavender nodded, her perfectly coiffed hair bouncing in time with her head's movement. "That's right. She's really brilliant - she's the great-great-granddaughter of one of the most renowned seers of the modern era! Parvati and I've been joining her on her excursions since last March. We've even," her voice hushed, as though imparting a great secret, "... gone into the _Forbidden Forest_ a time or two!"

Hermione chuckled, and Harry's expression didn't change, both of them having ventured into the forest on a detention the previous year - when Harry, along with Draco Malfoy, had discovered the slain unicorn. Lavender looked questioningly at their reactions, a bit put off that her dramatic reveal had fallen so flat.

"'Fraid it'll take more than that to impress this one," Ron noted, jerking his thumb in Harry's direction. "So which night do you normally go?"

"It depends on the lunar phases. We venture out every new, and every full moon. You've missed the Harvest Moon already, Harry, but we'll be going out on Friday night to see the new moon."

"I'll be there."

"What! But you've got a quidditch match Saturday morning!" Ron exclaimed while Hermione muttered once more about the lack of educational value in such an excursion.

"You shouldn't judge, Hermione, Professor Trelawney teaches us loads about Astronomy, and she's way better at explaining it than Sinistra. In fact-"

"Hi, Harry!" Harry distractedly greeted Luna, the diminutive First Year drawing irritated glances from the other students as she skipped over to their table. "I waved to you at lunch but I don't think you saw, you were reading out of a book that must have been quite interesting-"

"Right, it's great to see you again, Luna, but Lavender was telling me something really important. I'll catch up with you later, yea?"

"Okay!" She said, sitting down next to Ron and watching him with her wide silvery eyes.

Lavender poked at the stack of books in front of Harry. "I can't wait til you come along, I can tell you'll get a lot out of it. But you should probably come alone, Professor Trelawney always says that scepticism can inhibit the inner eye's revelations. If you want," she said, shooting a side-eyed look at Ron and Hermione, "we can go back to the common room and Parvati and I can go over our forecasts with you. Do you know anything about astrology?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically and picked up his bag to join her. "I'll see you all later, then?" He gave an absentminded wave and hurried after Lavender, leaving a bemused Ron, an irritated Hermione, and a cheerful Luna behind.

* * *

"Hello!"

Awkward silence met her greeting and Luna, a beaming smile present on her cheerful face, waited patiently for her dormmates to make room at their table in the library.

"Oh, working on Charms? That's good thinking, I imagine Professor Flitwick wouldn't be very pleased if his First years were late on their essays." Luna looked around, seeing that the two empty seats at the table had been occupied by school bags, neither of which the girls had made any movement to remove.

Finally, one girl slid her bag off one of the unoccupied seats. "Do you, uh, want to sit down?" Sadie Powell, a tall and somewhat awkward brunette asked.

Luna nodded, her smile bright enough to rival the sun, taking the offered seat and began removing her school books and a blank roll of parchment. Before she'd even unscrewed her inkpot, though, three of her four roommates had already packed their things and were standing up to leave. Luna's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and she turned to Sadie.

Sadie was scrambling to follow the other girls before Luna could even open her mouth to speak. "Sorry, Lovegood. It's nothing personal, but I'm already having a hard enough time fitting in, what with being the only muggleborn First Year in Ravenclaw!"

She rushed away to catch up with their dormmates, leaving Luna alone, unmoving, staring at her blank parchment and wondering what had just happened.

* * *

That night, Hermione lay in the darkness in her four-poster, the curtains drawn and doing her typical nighttime regimen: running through her mental checklist of assignments for that week, her progress towards completing them, and Ron and Harry's headway on them as well. Her internal musings were, as was typical, interrupted by the entrance of her dormmates, fresh from their shower. Apparently, Hermione thought with not a little irritation, they'd decided to apply their face masks and moisturizers in the dorm tonight, rather than in the bathroom.

Catching Harry's name mentioned, though, Hermione perked up, zeroing in on the quiet conversation between the two talkative girls.

"-seriously, can't believe it would be divination of all things that drew the _Boy-Who-Lived_ out of his shell!"

Lavender didn't sound pleased to hear that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come _on_ , Lav! You can't tell me you aren't curious after all the rumours from last year!"

Hermione tensed, ready to rip open her curtains and tear into the two, but hesitated at Lavender's firm response. "No. Don't make me regret bringing you into this."

" _Really._ Suddenly going to pretend that you weren't the source of half the speculation about him?" There was clear indignation in Parvati's voice.

"I was, and you were behind the other half. I- it was nice, getting all of that attention."

"So what's the big deal? People will be talking about him the rest of his life, what's so bad about asking what really happened?"

Hermione clenched her fists as a long moment went by with no response. When Lavender finally did reply, though, it was practically a whisper. "I've told you what it's like at home. My parents don't expect anything from me. I got a bunch of Acceptables and they didn't even bat an eye; I think my mum was relieved that I did that well. In the Brown family, everyone knows Peter got the brains, Peter got the drive, Peter got the talent, and Lavender got the looks."

Parvati had obviously heard this before. "So, what - you think joining Harry's little troupe will make them respect you?" Despite the frankness of her words, there was no malice in her tone.

"No! Not that, not at all. You weren't in the library. You didn't see Harry's face when he asked me about divination. No one's ever- it was like, like he thought I was the smartest person in the school. It made me feel- it made me..." She trailed off for a moment after sniffing loudly. "I'm going to bed."

The two exchanged a quiet 'goodnight', and the dorm fell silent once more. Fay Dunbar came in and got into her bed, but there was no more conversation. Hermione went over the surprising conversation she'd eavesdropped on, realizing that perhaps she'd been a bit unfair to Lavender, admitting that she'd judged her to be just like the 'popular' girls in her muggle primary school.

Maybe, she mused to herself in the darkness, maybe even a subject as woolly as Divination had its uses, if it could make such a difference in the biggest gossip in their year.

* * *

Friday night seemed to take forever to arrive. Harry could hardly pay attention in class all week, so excited was he to meet Sybill Trelawney. Hermione had declined to join him, though she seemed to have let up on her criticisms of his interest in the field; Ron, likewise, had begged off, claiming to need Hermione's help with his Potions essay. Harry suspected that his refusal had more to do, though, with the two girls that he walked alongside than with any sudden urge to complete his homework. Ron, despite his sometimes boisterous disposition, was just as often no less shy than Harry when it came to interacting with those outside of his circle of friends.

Accompanying Lavender and Parvati out of the castle and onto the grounds, he had to admit she seemed to fit many of his expectations. With her large glasses, complete with coke-bottle lenses, her somewhat wild hair, thin and drawn frame, and of course a rather vacant expression, Trelawney did indeed appear otherworldly in her own way. She greeted the girls kindly, her eyes looking him over and locking onto his scar.

"Harry Potter, I had not expected to see you for another year," she began, " _however,_ I can see it! Yes, the fates have been altered once again. A great peril has led you to seek me out."

Harry's eyes widened. "Yes! That's right, I was warned about a great danger at Hogwarts this year!"

Trelawney nodded, as though expecting such a response. "A terrible threat it is. Oh! How awful, that a boy should have to face such a dreadful future!"

"What do you know of this danger? I wasn't told- I don't know details about it, not specifically."

The vacant expression disappeared, and instead a shrewd look emerged on her features. "It is not yet written in the heavens, my dear boy. Perhaps, as we spend more time together, your destiny will become more apparent." She looked around to the other students, many of whom had been watching the scene with wide eyes. "Shall we set off? I'd like to circle the Black Lake this evening; the reflection of the stars on its surface always brings me a bit more celestial intuition. Let's go, children."

The group, consisting of roughly twenty students, made up of Second Years all the way to Seventh, followed behind her as they walked toward the lake. Beside him, Lavender trembled despite the pleasant autumn temperature.

"Are you okay?"

"Are _you_? Aren't you worried?"

Harry gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I had already been warned, over the summer that something big was coming this year. We'll be okay, Dumbledore's here."

Lavender wasn't convinced. "You say that, but you spent the end of the last term in the Hospital Wing."

A shadow seemed to pass over Harry's face, and he hoped that the darkness masked his expression as he relived the encounter with Quirrell at the end of their First Year. "It'll be okay. You don't need to be scared."

But despite his reassuring words, Harry couldn't help but feel a sliver of dread worm its way into his gut. Dobby's warnings seemed much more real, and his confidence in Harry's abilities seemed now to be unrealistic; Harry needed to be ready, needed to be better, needed to be something _more_ than he was. Hurrying to catch up with the rest of the group, he spent the rest of the walk lost in his thoughts.

* * *

The next morning, Luna got up and picked out a casual outfit, deciding to dress for the quidditch match that morning before heading to breakfast. It was only polite, after all; her roommates tended to increasingly suffer from bouts of Incommodious Lurgy and would clam up whenever she was around, even when she could hear them laughing and chatting just before she entered the dormitory. It was likely just homesickness, to which Luna could certainly relate; she missed her father terribly.

She was mulling over perhaps setting up some wind chimes near their window as a potential cure for the other First Years when an older student stopped her just inside the Great Hall.

"What's with that get-up, Lovegood?"

Luna looked down at her outfit, a scarlet jumper, black trousers, topped with a thin golden-hued scarf. "I thought it rather appropriate for the game today."

The pretty Asian girl didn't visibly react to her words, though the girl with short curly-hair next to her twisted up her face as though she'd bit into a lemon. "You're in Ravenclaw, though. You should be wearing our colors."

"But today's match is Gryffindor against Slytherin, and Harry Potter is a good friend of mine. I didn't want him to think-"

"Listen, I know it can be tough fitting in your First Year, but you really shouldn't make up stories like that. Why don't you go get changed? There's still plenty of time before the match begins."

"I'm not making it up, though. Harry and I spent a lot of time together at my home this summer, and-"

The curly-haired girl laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound. "Right, pull the other one! The Boy-Who-Lived, summering with the crackpot _Quibbler_ family?"

Luna gasped, cheeks flushed and hurt in her eyes. The Asian girl - ' _Chang, was it?'_ \- looked slightly uncomfortable and walked back to the Ravenclaw table without another word. The girl with curly hair followed, still wearing an ugly expression on her face. She followed behind them, spotting the other First Years halfway done with their meals and moving to take a seat next to Michelle Burgess, a pureblood from a well-to-do family outside of Dover.

"What, you think we want you around us wearing that?" The girls had, like much of the rest of the House, watched her confrontation with Cho and her friend. "If you like Gryffindor so much, why don't you go sit with them?"

"Yea, maybe if you beg, they'll even re-Sort you. 'Course, I doubt even the Gryffs would want you." That came from Angie Bishop, another First Year, but a half-blood.

Luna stood awkwardly as more jeers from the First Years started. Only Sadie stayed quiet, simply eating toast with jam as though nothing were happening. What did she do wrong? She just wanted Harry to know she supported him. Luna shrank back away from the table. Was it- did they not _like_ her? But why?

She turned and ran, ignoring the grumbling in her stomach, not stopping until she got to the Forbidden Forest.

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'd like to share a story from my own life, and make a request of all of you. Years ago, I went through a rough time – had been fired, and the job I picked up in the meantime was nowhere near enough to live on. I was working full time, but still having to borrow money just to make rent. I *starved*, literally – I lost nearly 15 lbs in under two months. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced in my life.**

**Right now, there are a lot of people in the USA that are going through that right now. If you can spare anything, please consider going to feedingamerica DOT org – there is a tool that will locate the nearest food bank to your community. Every dollar makes a difference, a real difference in people's lives. I can tell you honestly that I likely would not be here if it weren't the food banks that kept me alive during that time.**

**It's an issue that's really important to me. I hope that all of you are safe, well, and have a good holiday season with your family and friends. Please keep in mind the people though, that like me in the past, go to bed every night and try to sleep through hunger pains that twist your stomach in knots.**

**Thanks – didn't mean to get all preachy, but like I said, it's something that I can't help but think about at this time. Bless you all.**

**~Frickles**


	5. Chapter 5

**October 4, 1992**

Luna read through her father's reply yet again, finding a rare moment of comfort and solace in his words.

She'd sent out a letter the week before, after the terrible morning of the first quidditch match. His reply was exactly the tonic for her worries, coaching patience, understanding, and self-love. Glancing down at the final paragraph once more, some of the awful homesickness she'd constantly felt eased.

_And remember, Moonbeam, your experiences have been different from those of your classmates. How many of them have chatted with Mycenaean merfolk, or hunted the wily Crumple-Horned Snorcack? You are a beautiful and unique child; the other students will come to recognize that, it just may take a little time._

Cradling the letter to her chest, she knew her father's words were correct. It hadn't even been two months, and she was already judging them! The other girls just needed to get to know her.

' _Harry didn't need time to learn how to be nice to me'_ a traitorous voice in her mind pointed out. Maybe girls were different? It had been several years since she'd spent time with other girls her age.

Perhaps that was also the reason Ginevra had been so upset with her? Luna stood up, brushing away the feathers her robes had collected, and made her way out of the Owlery.

Yes, the youngest Weasley was the perfect place to start. She already had history with Luna, and surely she'd be able to clue her in to the secrets of making friends. Resolved, she set off to head to lunch and try to rekindle a friendship.

* * *

Tossing his copy of _Gadding with Ghouls_ onto the floor of the Second Years dormitory, Harry scowled in irritation. Lockhart's 'textbooks' were a complete waste, lacking even a single incantation or wand movement in the entire set.

Making his way down the steps to the common room, he saw Ron intensely focused on a game of chess with Seamus, and Hermione buried in her Potions text. Harry walked toward the exit, but apparently Ron was more attentive than he'd first appeared.

"Where're you headed, mate?"

"The library."

Ron pumped his fist as Seamus walked right into a checkmate. "More divination?"

"Uh… yea." Harry decided against letting him know he planned to study ahead in Defense, figuring that explaining why he was doing so would likely take up the remaining time until curfew.

"You should see if Lavender wants to go, you two've practically been attached with a Sticking Charm lately."

"Er, no, that's all right, curfew's not that far off, and-"

Ron interrupted Harry, calling across the common room, drawing the attention of every student present. "Hey! Lavender! Harry wants to know if you want to study in the library!" His grin was practically ear to ear, while Harry wore a mortified look.

The pretty blonde ducked her head momentarily, as though hiding from the sudden attention as everyone's head swiveled from Ron to her. Sporting a vibrant blush, she quickly gathered her books and met Harry at the entrance, the two exiting amidst whistles and catcalls from the assembled Gryffindors.

"So... " Lavender began, awkwardly trying to fill the silence in the corridor, "What, uh, what do you want to look up in the library?"

"Uh, I don't know," he scrambled for a response and predictably came up with nothing. "Defense."

"Oh, okay," she seemed less excited after his reply, the two walking in silence for a few more minutes.

He cursed Ron for inviting her along; while he and Lavender had become friends this term, he wasn't comfortable looking up the kind of magic that he needed with her present. While his own anxiety built, Lavender spoke up again.

"Um, hey Harry," she said, sounding unusually nervous, "Why do you dress like that?"

Harry paused, looking down at his baggy, threadbare jeans and his oversized t-shirt. "Like what?"

"Well, all of your clothes seem rather, well, tatty."

"What of it?" he asked, brusquely.

"It's just- I mean, you're Harry Potter. Why not wear nice clothes?"

He came to a sudden stop in the hallway. Memories flowed over him, of shivering in his hand-me-downs during brutal London winters, of being thrown in his cupboard with no dinner after asking for warmer wear, of the taunts and laughter at his primary school over his appearance.

"Why is it any of your business? What do you care?"

She was taken aback at his hostile tone, looking past him toward the library's entrance in an attempt to avoid his angry eyes. "I only asked because, you know, I know a lot about fashion, and I know you were raised with muggles-"

"You think I want to wear these-" he bit off his rant, tightly reining in his bitter fury. "It doesn't matter. I've got bigger things to worry about than _fashion_. Now are you coming with me, or not?"

She nodded, and a small part of Harry's mind hated the way her eyes were wide and her posture was subdued, knowing that he was responsible for it. In his righteous anger, though, he stamped down on that feeling, and they entered the library.

"So," she said in an obvious attempt to cut through the tension, "Professor Lockhart assigned _Year with the Yeti_ ; I think we're probably going to cover the Hair-Loss Hex this week. Want to read ahead and try to-"

Harry interrupted her with a snort. "I said I wanted to look up Defense; I'd thought it obvious that would have nothing to with Lockhart."

"What's wrong with Professor Lockhart? You know, he's got an Order of Merlin for his heroism!"

"He's a ponce! We'd learn more about defense against the dark arts from a flobberworm!" The lingering irritation with her asking about his clothes had bled over, and they both ignored Madam Pince's disapproving glare as Lavender rounded on him.

"How could you say that? He's done so many great things! What is your- oh. I see now."

Harry didn't like the suddenly knowing look on her face. "What?"

"You're _jealous_. Look, you-"

"Jealous?! Of him? You're barking!" They were practically nose-to-nose now.

"Yes! He's famous, and talented, and handsome! He's a great wizard!"

That shut him up, his face falling, feeling like he'd just had a bucket of ice water dropped on him. "You should go back to the Tower, Brown, I think I'd rather study alone." There wasn't any anger left in his voice, and without another word, he turned away and stepped into the stacks. By the time he returned, Lavender was gone.

What was it that had bothered him so? Harry had always been defensive over his clothes, given he'd never had any control over his wardrobe, but the notion that Lavender thought that Lockhart was handsome and he was not didn't have much to do with that. It hurt, in a surprising and unexpected way.

Preoccupied though he was with potentially having ruined his new friendship, Harry could still recognize that the books he was glancing through didn't contain any impressive or special magic. Lavender's last words, ' _He's a great wizard!'_ echoed through his mind, bringing up memories of a house elf's large, bulbous eyes gazing into his own.

' _Dobby believes Harry Potter is a great wizard.'_

Harry wouldn't let him down.

* * *

Lavender stormed through the entrance, looking upset and noticeably alone. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look - Hermione's being unsurprised, and his own concerned - before she sighed and stood from the table with their Potions homework and followed her roommate's path up the stairs to the girls dorm.

Ron took the opportunity to slide Hermione's nearly complete essay over, glancing through what she'd written, making notes in his textbook and grinning to himself as he easily outlined enough material for at least six inches of his own essay. He'd already returned her homework to its proper spot by the time Hermione came back, surprisingly with Lavender in tow.

"I think you should hear this. Tell him, Lavender."

She sat down, looking as though she'd prefer to be almost anywhere but with them. While Lavender and Harry had become fast friends, most of that time had been spent together alone. Now, with whatever had happened, she was obviously uncomfortable at being questioned by Harry's notoriously protective best friends.

"We were walking together and everything was fine, then I asked him about his clothes, and he- he turned on me. Then we fought about Professor Lockhart, and he told me to leave him alone."

Ron set down his quill and tried to think about what to say. Hermione appeared content to allow him to decide how much Lavender should know, given his greater knowledge and experience with Harry's life at the Dursley's, but for once he wished she'd take the lead and spare him this decision.

"Harry wears hand-me-downs from his cousin. It's not easy, never having anything of your own," Ron was intimately familiar with that concept. "I imagine it was a bit of a sore spot, y'know? I'm sure he'd like to have new things, things that fit better."

Judging by the way Lavender paled, she'd done a bit more than 'ask' about his clothes. Hermione picked up on it even faster than he did. "What else did you say? What did you do?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, "Just, when we were arguing about Professor Lockhart, I accused him of being jealous of- um, of how handsome he is."

Ron winced, and Hermione gave Lavender a look of complete and utter disdain. "As though looks are what makes a wizard great! You _would_ think-"

"Hey, we're all friends here!" Ron hurriedly said, trying to defuse Hermione's temper. "I don't think Harry has much to be jealous about; he's probably just as famous as Lockhart, and he's only twelve."

"It's not that, Ron, it's about _Lavender_ thinking that Professor Lockhart is handsome." She surreptitiously tilted her head at the blonde seated next to her, raising her eyebrows and giving him a significant look. ' _What does that mean?'_

"Well, loads of witches think he is. Even Mum looked a bit red in the face at his book signing at Diagon Alley."

"We'll talk about it later," Hermione told him, before turning back to Lavender. "Where's Harry now? Curfew's only a few minutes away."

"I don't know, he stayed in the library. He'll be back soon, won't he?"

"Sure, no doubt." Ron mulled over the look Hermione had given him, along with the way that Lavender had seemed so embarrassed over commenting _to Harry_ about thinking Lockhart was good-looking.

A lifetime of never getting his own things, of clothes that weren't just second-hand, but often third- and even _fourth-_ hand came to mind. No wonder Harry had been upset! Ron thought about every time Malfoy had lit into him over his family, over his robes and school materials, about how much it meant to Ginny when she got a new wand instead of matching with one from the family. An inkling of an idea started to form.

"Say, Lavender, if I wanted to order clothes by owl, where would you recommend I look?"

"I've got loads of catalogs in my dorm. What are you looking for?"

"Just… just a few things. Maybe a nice pair of trou', and a fitted shirt. Maybe you could recommend something that you think would look fit?"

Lavender and Hermione both seemed to come to a conclusion about why he'd suddenly changed the subject, and Lavender jumped up to go mark down some recommendations in her catalogs. Hermione remained behind, staring at him with some unfathomable look on her face.

"What?"

"You're going to buy Harry a new outfit? So he'll look nice for Lavender?"

"Not _for Lavender_ , but yea, I thought it might be nice for him to not feel bad about his clothes."

"How-, I mean, what about the expense?"

Ron shrugged, fighting off the self-consciousness that came with her awkward question. "Fred and George'll surely pitch in, and I've got some pocket money that Mum gave me for the snack trolley. We'll manage."

"Ron Weasley, you-, you…" For once, Hermione lacked words, instead practically jumping over the table and smothering him in a crushing embrace. "Tell me how much it is, I'll help. I still have some Sickles left from school shopping."

Hoping his face wasn't as flushed as it felt, Ron nodded. "Err, right. Will do."

* * *

Breathing a sigh of relief as the Lighting Charms dimmed and the doors closed behind Madam Pince, Harry crept out from the corner he'd waited in, still hidden beneath his invisibility cloak. It had been a thankfully short wait, and Madam Pince had done only a cursory inspection of the library before closing it up and departing.

He stepped over the rope blocking off the Restricted Section, perusing the titles on the shelves for something that he deemed more suitable than the texts he'd already found in the main section of the library. Pulling one book off of the shelf, he began to read, illuminating the book with help of a weak _lumos_.

"'Cloud of Death', sounds promising," he muttered to himself, reading through the incantation and wand movements for the impressive spell, one that created a rain of conjured arrows above an opponent.

Harry realized the problem with trying to study in the Restricted Section after curfew - holding his wand with one hand, resting the book on his knees, he had nowhere to rest parchment to take notes. Digging through his school bag for something flat that he could write on, his fingers grazed the leathery texture of the small black book he'd thrown in his bag over the summer and not given a second thought to since.

The journal that Ginny had given him! It would be perfect for marking down new spells for him to practice! Quickly pulling it out and inking his quill, Harry first wrote the incantation, then began to scribble the wand movements. Satisfied, he flipped the page, scanning for more spells.

In the light of his wand, though he detected some movement on the open page of the journal. To his surprise, the section where he'd written down the wand movement erased itself, then reappeared in a neat flowing script, with the 'counter-clockwise swivel and downward swing' changed to 'clockwise'. Another line of text appeared beneath the correction.

' _You need to pay very close attention when taking notes, especially for spells such as this.'_

Going very still, Harry looked around and waited for a few heart-stopping moments. Seeing no one, he leaned down and inspected the journal closely. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. More words continued to appear.

' _I'm guessing, if you've decided to make note of the Cloud of Death, that you are reading_ How to Wage War for Wand-Wielders _. Is that correct?'_

Harry double-checked the cover. ' _Yes.'_

' _It's an excellent resource. I recommend checking out page 249, if my memory serves.'_

Thumbing through the pages, he did so. An enormously complex spell, _Solaris Calorum_ , took up nearly a half dozen pages. Harry read through the description, ignoring the complex spell-crafting calculations and history. It was, for lack of a better term, a death ray that mimicked the effect of sunlight through multiple magnifying glasses.

"Cool…" he breathed, putting the book down and regarding the book with suspicion.

' _How is a book able to write back?'_

The answer came swiftly. ' _Because it is enchanted, obviously. 'I' am the memories of a former student, a Head Boy from many years past, created to function as a study aid. Now, why don't you tell me about yourself, and why you're researching such dangerous spells, and I can see about providing you with advice and assistance?'_

' _I'm Harry Potter, in my Second Year, and I'm trying to protect the school from great danger. You can teach me spells?'_

Rather than directly reply, text suddenly appeared, filling not only the rest of the page, but - as Harry flipped through - the next dozen as well, different curses, hexes, and charms. Each had the incantation, wand movement, and a brief description.

On the last page, beneath the final spell, another message was waiting.

' _Does that answer your question? If what you say is true, Harry Potter, you'll need my help to protect Hogwarts. I know just the place where you can learn all of this, and more. Trust me.'_

**A/N: Shorter than I would have liked, but couldn't think of a better way to end the chapter. Not much of a Luna in this one, which of course makes it less lovely and wondrous :D**

**Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles**


	6. Chapter 6

"Ginevra! Wait!" The redhead paused momentarily but continued walking without turning around. "Ginevra!"

Just as Luna approached, the redhead turned around, irritation evident on her face. "Stop calling me that!" she hissed, "Call me 'Ginny', like everyone else."

Luna cocked her head to the side. "Very well. But Ginevra is such a lovely name."

"Just… just call me Ginny. What do you want? Transfiguration starts in a few minutes."

"Yes, I think there's no hope that I'll be able to avoid a tardy to Potions. Professor Snape is sure to be angry; he's rather pernickety, isn't he?"

"He's a greasy git. You should hurry along; if you're too late, he might give you a detention."

Luna smiled brightly. "It's all right. I haven't seen you since we talked at lunch on Sunday. How has your week gone?"

Ginny glanced over at the slightly pudgy girl that stood next to her. "Hey Demelza, I'll catch up with you, alright?" The girl nodded, shifting her schoolbag to her other shoulder and heading off to McGonagall's classroom, while Ginny turned fully towards Luna. "You came all the way to the other side of the castle just to say hello?"

Luna nodded, still wearing a happy smile. Ginny frowned. "You shouldn't have done that. Your classmates won't be happy that you lost them points."

The fair-haired Ravenclaw's smile dimmed. "I don't think I've been making a very good impression on my classmates. To tell you the truth," her voice hushed, as though imparting a secret, "I believe they think me a bit odd."

Ginny's expression didn't change. "Then maybe you should act a little more normal."

Luna wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she just nodded. Apparently, that wasn't the reaction that Ginny had expected, as the Gryffindor continued, picking up steam. "You know, maybe if you'd listened to me on the Express, you wouldn't need to come all the way across the castle to talk to a friend."

There was a brief pause as the two First Years looked at each other. Just when Ginny appeared ready to turn and continue to class, Luna cocked her head and said, "You're being rather rude. Not like how friends are supposed to be."

"Yea? And what do you know about having friends?"

"I- I have friends."

With a snort, Ginny turned away. "Right. Nobody wants you around. Just stay away from me, Lovegood."

The Gryffindors filed into McGonagall's classroom, but rather than head down to the dungeons to her Potions class, Luna walked towards the main entrance at a sedate pace, going over her surprisingly contentious encounter with the youngest Weasley. Stepping outside into the brisk October air, she squatted down and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

Why was this so hard? Everyone had always been kind to her before she came to school. But then, most of the people she encountered was during her travels with her father. And Harry, of course. Even he didn't seem all that interested to spend time with her here, though. What was it about Hogwarts that made- that caused the other students to behave so strangely?

Maybe it was… maybe it was how she acted? Daddy had always said she was special but no one else acted like she did. What if Ginny was right? What if…

'No' There was no way that Daddy was wrong! Luna knew, she was positive that something else was afoot. Something devious, dastardly, and, and…

"Drat! What else starts with a 'd'?" Luna leaned back against the cool stone walls of Hogwarts, looking up at the fluffy clouds. She picked out the likeness of several magical creatures among the gentle shapes in the sky, letting her mood improve as time passed. Potions was surely over by now; she'd have a head start getting to Herbology.

As she skipped along the path to the greenhouses, Luna thought more about her problems with her peers. Now that she was able to look at the situation rationally, it was obvious that she was needed. Something was happening at Hogwarts that was causing everyone to act this way. But what? She ran through what she knew of current events, nearly falling forward as the answer came to her. Of course! It was so obvious!

A terribly evil influence must have made its way to the most magical place in all of Great Britain. The Rotfang Conspiracy!

October 22, 1992

Ron let out a long whistle, and Hermione chuckled and clapped her hands in mock-applause. "Lookin' good there, mate."

"I really appreciate this. Thank you, both of you."

His dorm-mate waved off his gratitude but Hermione spoke up. "It was all Ron's idea. You should also thank the twins, they pitched in, too. You look great!"

Harry nodded and adjusted his glasses, hoping that the warmth in his face wasn't easily visible. "I like them, a lot."

"Good! Now, fashion show's over, let's get to the Great Hall, I'm famished!"

"Don't forget, we're going to the Library afterwards to finish our History of Magic essays!"

"Yes, Mum," Harry and Ron said in unison.

All three chuckled, picking up their school bags and making their way out of Gryffindor Tower. Harry admired his outfit in the reflection of every suit of armour they passed, taking in the look and feel of the clothes that fit him that weren't a school uniform. It was brilliant, a wonderful surprise when Ron and Hermione had pulled him to his dormitory after class.

As they hopped off the floating staircase, they caught a glimpse of blonde hair turning the corner. "It's Lavender, Harry! Hurry, you can catch up with her before she gets to the Great Hall!"

He gave Hermione a confused look. "Why would I do that?"

"She's missed you. You two have barely spoken in weeks!" It was true; he'd done his best to avoid the bubbly blonde since he'd lost his temper with her in the Library, not even saying hello when they encountered each other on Trelawney's excursions. "Don't you want her to see your new clothes? She'll be impressed."

"Impressed? What does Lavender have to do with-"

"Better get moving, Harry, unless you want everyone at dinner see you two make up!"

"Whatever," he mumbled, breaking into a light jog and catching up to Lavender and Parvati just after they'd rounded the corner. "Hey! Lavender!"

"Oh, Harry! You look- um, I like your shirt," she said, while Parvati rolled her eyes good-naturedly and continued on towards the Great Hall.

"Thanks," he said, feeling his face heat up again. "Listen, I- I wanted to say sorry, you know, about what happened in the Library."

"It's okay. Ron and Hermione explained it to me later. She thought I should give you some space, let you come around on your own."

'Typical Hermione, knowing me better than I know myself' he thought, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to think of something to say. "Well, I, uh, I'd still like to be friends, if you want."

"I'd like that," she replied. "You know, green's a good colour on you. It brings out your eyes."

"Thanks."

"I bet it would look even better without these," she continued, confidently reaching up and removing his glasses, the frames dropping from her fingers to the stone floors a second later. "Merlin, Harry, what's happened to you? Are you okay?"

Without the bulky, thick frames of his glasses, the rings beneath Harry's eyes were clearly visible. "I"m fine- what did you do that for? You've broken one of the lenses!"

"You look like you haven't slept in a week! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I-" their conversation was interrupted by the sound of mocking laughter coming from the direction he'd come. Grabbing his glasses off the floor and jamming them back on his face, broken lens and all, Harry and Lavender hurried back towards where he'd left Ron and Hermione.

"-the pauper and the mudblood. What do you think, fellas, it'd make a good show on the Wireless, wouldn't it?" Crabbe and Goyle mindlessly chuckled their agreement.

"Don't you call her that, Malfoy!" Ron was incensed, as furious as Harry had ever heard him.

"Why not? It's nothing more than what you are," Malfoy took a step closer, crowding Hermione's personal space. "A no-good, filthy, mudbloo-"

His head snapped to the side as Ron's fist impacted his jaw and Malfoy collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Crabbe and Goyle sprang into action, the two of them tackling Ron high and low just as he drew his wand, all three crashing to the floor in a tumble of legs and arms. Hermione's high-pitched scream almost drowned out a loud crack as the three Second Years collided.

Harry and Lavender ran forward, while Draco pulled himself to his feet and pointed his wand at Hermione, who was ineffectually grabbing at Goyle, trying to stop him from hitting Ron.

There wasn't much in the way of conscious thought. The cracks in his glasses obscured the vision of his right eye, so he closed it. Hefting his wand, allowing the rage that flowed like liquid fire through his veins to overtake him like a tidal wave, he stared down the Slytherin ponce and let instinct take over.

"Confringo!" A massive orange ball shot out of his wand like a cannon, darting down the corridor and just missing Malfoy and impacting the wall behind him.

The blast of the explosion knocked both Hermione and Draco off of their feet, propelling them past where Ron and the other two Slytherins had momentarily ceased their struggles. A heavy silence fell over the corridor, punctuated by a section of the ceiling above the now missing wall collapsing, rubble and debris falling down in a minor cascade of material.

Draco sat up, jaw dropping and eyes widening as he looked to the demolished wall, then to Harry, then back to the wall. Without a word, he stumbled to his feet and took off running, his footsteps drawing the attention of Crabbe and Goyle who hastily followed.

"Ron," Harry croaked, his mouth feeling as dry as parchment, "You alright?"

"I reckon so, but- blimey! You don't do things by half, do you?" They could hear others approaching, no doubt professors coming to investigate the explosion.

"What was that, Harry? You could have killed him!"

"I don't know! He was going to- I was just so angry and-"

"Where did you learn that spell?" Lavender asked.

Harry felt trapped, frightened. 'Would they expel him for this?' Who would save the school if he wasn't here? His head was so foggy, the exhaustion he felt earlier magnified ten times over after casting a spell of that power. "I- I've been studying ahead, and…"

"You can't go learning that kind of magic unsupervised!" That, predictably, came from Hermione who looked as though she were gearing up for the lecture of the century when a mournful cry came from Ron, still on his knees.

"Of all the bloody luck-"

"Language!"

"What is it?" Lavender asked, stepping forward to investigate.

"My wand! It's broken!" Hermione and Lavender both leaned forward to examine his wand, where two inches were hanging by a splinter of wood. "What'll I do now?"

Lavender patted him on the back in sympathy, as Dumbledore and Flitwick finally came onto the scene, their surprised exclamations overriding Ron's emotional distress.

"What happened here?!"

"It was Harry-" she looked over her shoulder but he was gone. "Harry?"

He was panting, perspiration causing his new shirt to stick to his back. Frantically pacing back and forth, his stress forcing him to start over two different times. Why was he so tired? It felt like no matter how much he slept, he just couldn't get any rest.

Finally, he was able to focus his thoughts, and he opened up the door that appeared, walking into the spartan room and dropping the floor, digging through his bag and pulling out a slim black book. Dragging out a quill, he began to write, frantically reciting what had just happened into the pages.

'You successfully cast the Explosion Hex? Well done, Harry!'

'That's not the point! How am I going to explain how I blew a hole in the castle? Snape won't rest 'til I'm expelled for sure!'

Apparently, the enchanted journal wasn't one to mull things over, for the reply came instantaneously. 'I think not. If what you've told me is true, then Dumbledore knows you are fated for something important. He will protect your place here. Don't worry.'

Harry didn't respond, sitting back and closing his eyes. This was horrible. When he looked back down, there was a new question waiting for him. 'How did it feel, to use magic on that scale? I told you it would come in time.'

Despite his (and presumably Tom's) best efforts, Harry hadn't been able to make much use of the spells he'd tried to learn. For whatever reason, they were just too advanced for him to successfully cast. The Explosion Hex he'd used to destroy most of the corridor was the first time he'd managed one of the advanced curses that Tom had tried to teach him.

'I was really mad, so I wasn't thinking much at all. It was like a… reflex.'

'And what happened last term, with your old professor - you were angry then, were you not?'

'Yes.'

'It seems that you are capable of remarkable things when you surrender to your rage, Harry. Just something to keep in mind.'

He closed the journal, leaving it and his bag in his secret room and standing up to head out. He couldn't hide forever. Hopefully, Tom was right, and somehow he'd get out of this jam. As he approached the Headmaster's office, he nervously ran a hand through his hair and stepped up to the gargoyle statue.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore greeted, "I'd been hoping to speak with you."

"That's why I came up here, sir."

"Excellent, follow me if you would. Candy corn." The gargoyle slid aside, and Dumbledore motioned for Harry to accompany him as he walked up the stairs to his office. "Please, take a seat."

"About what happened tonight, I'm sorry."

The Headmaster peered over his spectacles, weighing Harry's contrition. The boy seemed to shrink in on himself under Dumbledore's scrutiny, cracked eyeglasses hiding the shadows under his eyes, cheeks looking hollow and gaunt. "You're very lucky that dinner had already begun and that no students were in the classroom that caved in. Thankfully, there were no injuries, although Professors Flitwick and McGonagall will likely spend the better part of a week repairing the damage from your curse."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen."

Dumbledore turned, gently stroking Fawkes' plumage. "Really?" he asked in genuine curiosity. "What did you think would happen when you fired off an Explosion Hex of that strength?"

"He was pointing his wand at Hermione! I just wanted to protect her!"

He locked eyes with Harry, using passive legilimency as he asked his next question. "Where did you learn a spell like that?"

"In a book I found in the Library." Truth.

"Do you realize you could have killed Mr Malfoy, had your spell connected?"

"I wasn't trying to kill him, just- I just wanted him to get away." Lie.

"I took the liberty of asking your classmates about your activities this term. What is this danger you mentioned to Miss Brown that you were told about this summer?"

Harry was quiet for a long moment, his eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before unwaveringly returning to meet his own. "Sir, last term you told me that Voldemort had information that I would 'one day' be a threat to him. Is there a prophecy about me?"

Dumbledore felt a surge of panic swirl within him, and it was only the look of fear on the Second Year's face that allowed him to gain a handle on his emotions. Letting out a deep breath he relaxed fractionally, loosening his hold on his wand. "Whatever do you mean?"

The child had the audacity to grin at him. "I think you just gave me my answer. I'd like to hear it, sir."

"Alas, I fear that is quite impossible at this time, for the very reason that brought you to my office this evening. Now," he began, taking a seat at his desk, "you should know that Mr Malfoy was rather shaken by your near-miss. Professor Snape allowed him the use of his personal Floo, and he contacted his father. The Board of Governors has been notified."

"Are they going to expel me?"

He let the question hang for several moments, allowing Harry's suspense to build. "The Board, by themselves, do not have the authority to discipline students. Only the Headmaster has that power, and I will not expel you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Yes, well, keep in mind that my decision would likely not be the same had your spell connected with young Mr Malfoy."

"I know. It won't happen again."

"Indeed. Now, for your punishment; you are to surrender your wand to me. You will be allowed to use it during class, after which you must return it to your professor."

"My wand? For how long?"

"The rest of the year."

"What!? But-"

"Mr Potter; you intentionally fired a lethal curse at another student. Your wand, please." Harry reluctantly reached into his pocket, pulling out eleven inches of holly and handing it to the Headmaster. "Thank you. You will also have detention every weekend, until Yule Break, and you must forfeit your spot on the quidditch team."

Harry's mouth set in a firm line, and he quickly ran a hand under his glasses. "Can I go?" His voice was watery but controlled.

"You may."

He quickly stood and practically ran out of the office. Dumbledore watched him go, feeling frustration mount over what had occurred. Much of his plan hedged on Malfoy not convincing the Board he was unfit to remain Headmaster; he hoped that Harry's punishments would be adequate to placate a majority.

Rushing back to the secret room, Harry paced in front of the entrance and stormed inside, opening his bag and withdrawing the journal, quickly scribbling out a summary of his meeting with Dumbledore.

'And then he took my wand! What am I supposed to do now?'

'There's nothing to worry about.'

Harry wanted to cry in frustration. Was he even a wizard, without a wand? It was a terrible, naked feeling. 'How can you say that? How am I supposed to defend the school if I can't use magic?'

'There is another way. Hogwarts has many secrets, one of which you can employ to protect the castle from any danger, whether it be from without or within.'

'What kind of secrets? How do I access them?'

'I will help you. Do you trust me, Harry Potter?'

The quill was perched an inch above the enchanted pages, trembling with Harry's exhaustion. Everything was going wrong; he'd lost his wand, nearly gotten expelled, and he certainly hadn't missed the look of fear that Lavender wore after he'd blown apart the corridor. But that was his mistake, not Tom's. If nothing else, what happened today had proven he was getting stronger. Just a little more, once he'd made sure that Hogwarts was safe - that his friends were safe - then he could stop this and rest. Just a little more.

'I trust you.'

A/N: Harry's starting to lose it! I don't know if I've said it before, but I really love Ron in this fic. IMO, Rowling did a real disservice by writing him as such a crappy friend, especially because - more than almost anyone - Ron should understand a lot of Harry's childhood of being denied nice things. I decided when I started this fic that I wanted to write Ron as a good friend, as opposed to what he was in canon.

Thank you so much for all of your amazing reviews. Everyone had really great insights into the story; I loved reading your thoughts!

Oh! Big news: I've started writing a novel, a piece of original fiction. I'm planning a trilogy. It will be fantasy and action/adventure. I'm really excited.

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles


	7. Chapter 7

Harry groaned, sandwiching his head between the pillow and mattress.

"Wake up!"

"C'mon, get up already. You know she's not going to let me go to breakfast until you're up, and I'm hungry!"

Opening one eye and peeking out of his four-poster, Harry tried to gauge his friends' mood. Ron, already dressed with his and Harry's school bags dangling from one arm, wearing an easy smile; Hermione, not a single thread of her uniform out of place, one hand on her cocked hip with an impatient look on her face.

"You look terrible. Did you toss and turn all night?"

Pushing himself up, he grabbed his glasses and dug out a fresh uniform from his trunk. "Don't think so. I went to bed after I got back to the Tower."

"You sure? Dean said he got up to use the loo in the middle of the night and your bed was empty."

"I got in late, didn't I? It was probably before I got back. Now, unless you're planning to scrub my back, I'll meet you in the common room."

Hermione gasped at his insinuation, while Ron merely chuckled. "You better not rinse and repeat; I wasn't lying about being hungry."

When he made his way down the steps from the boys dorms following his shower, he was surprised to see that Ron and Hermione had been joined by Lavender and Parvati. The four of them all wore smiles, some more strained than others, at his arrival.

"Good morning!" He stiffened momentarily when Lavender's arms went around his neck, her embrace not letting up until he reciprocated. For someone so unaccustomed to physical affection, he was surprised at the different feel of Lavender compared to Hermione or Mrs. Weasley. Not better, or worse; just _different_. "Are you okay? What's going to happen to you?"

He saw Parvati perk up in anticipation of his answer. No doubt what happened in the First Floor corridor had already made the rounds of Hogwarts' gossip network.

"I have detention every weekend until the end of term, and I lost my spot on the quidditch team," Ron gasped. "And the Headmaster took my wand away until the end of the school year."

There were various exclamations of surprise at his punishment, but the loudest by far was Ron's.

"No quidditch!? They can't do that!"

"Honestly, do you have any sense? Quidditch is the least severe of all of those!"

"Not to us," Ron pointed out, and Harry was forced to agree; he'd happily take detentions all year if it allowed him to stay on the team. If it weren't for being denied his wand, he'd be devastated over losing his spot on the team.

The group of Second Years left Gryffindor Tower and made their way to breakfast. Harry had just finished making his plate when a throat cleared behind him.

"Good morning, Professor."

McGonagall, wearing a frown, nodded at his greeting. "I came to inform you of who you will be serving your detentions with."

"Better not be Snape…" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of food across from him.

" _Professor_ Snape has other duties to attend to. There were, however, two volunteers among the faculty. You will be spending every Saturday night with Professor Trelawney," McGonagall turned her nose up, seeming disappointed at Harry's elated anticipation. "Each Sunday, however, you will report to the Third Floor, and spend three hours with-"

"No! Not _him_!"

"Professor Lockhart," she finished looking slightly satisfied at his apparent devastation. "That will be all."

* * *

**October 31, 1992**

Luna wasn't sure what to do. She'd returned to Ravenclaw Tower after a refreshing walk on the grounds only to find that several of her things were missing, including her Transfiguration essay due Monday. It was only half-finished, and she needed to find it to complete it before the weekend was over. After an exhaustive search through Ravenclaw Tower, her hunt took her out of the common room and she began wandering the halls. The portraits promised to keep their eyes out if they saw any sign of it laying around, and Luna allowed herself to enjoy a few minutes of interesting conversation with them.

Carefully enunciating " _Tempus"_ and checking the time before tucking her wand back behind her ear, she pondered her options. The Halloween Feast would be starting soon. Perhaps she could have a bite to eat before resuming her search? The nargles had been especially tricky, there was no sign of her homework anywhere! With a frustrated huff, she turned to walk towards the staircase, catching sight of a familiar figure as she did so.

"Hullo!"

"Hello," he replied. Harry didn't sound like he normally did; his voice was much more self-assured and smoother than she'd heard before. "What brings you to the Seventh Floor, my dear?"

"The nargles nabbed my homework, so I'm doing a floor-by-floor search of the castle!" She answered with a bright smile. "Do you want to come along?"

He chuckled, reaching up to tuck a lock of her pale blonde hair behind her ear. "As amusing as that sounds, I'm afraid I already have plans. Good luck, though."

Luna froze, not sure how to react to his unexpected gesture. "Ah-, yes, I mean- all right then." He gave a casual wave, walking past her and descending the staircase, leaving the flummoxed Ravenclaw standing confused in the middle of the deserted corridor.

What had she been doing? Oh, right! The Feast! Luna hurried toward the staircase, but though her pace was much faster than Harry's had been, she didn't catch sight of him on the way to the Great Hall. It wasn't until halfway through her meal that she realized the nargles must have snatched her wand as well, somewhere along the way.

* * *

"What's there to discuss? It _has_ to be Malfoy, that no go-good git! You heard what he said in the corridor! He as good as admitted it!"

"Ron, as unpleasant as he is, Malfoy's average at best when it comes to spellcasting. Do you really think he could manage something like what happened to Mrs. Norris?"

"So maybe he had help. Who else would do it?"

Hermione sighed. "We don't really know any of the older years. Surely Malfoy's not the only Slytherin that's prejudiced against muggleborns. I'm just saying, we shouldn't base our suspicions on him because he's the most vocal."

"What do you think, Harry?" Lavender asked. "Did you see what happened?"

He started, blinking as though coming out of a daze. "No, I had my detention until the Feast started, and then I did some studying until we all met up."

"How did it go with Trelawney, anyway?" Ron questioned. "What'd she have you do?"

"It wasn't bad. We talked about my horoscope, and we read tea leaves. She had a little more insight about what this year might hold for me."

Lavender leaned forward, familiar with some of the Divination Professor's pronouncements from their weekly excursions. "Really? About-, about what you told me?"

Harry nodded, wearing a grimace. "Yea." Glancing at Ron and Hermione's questioning looks, he added, "Remember what I told you - the warning I got?"

"Oh."

"Right. You reckon this Heir of Slytherin is the one that batty elf was telling you about?"

"Seems as likely a suspect as anything else."

They all went quiet for a moment, until Ron caught sight of his sister descending the stairs from the girls' dormitories. "Oh, at the Feast last night Wood gave Ginny the seeker spot for the rest of the season, because… you know. I told her you'd take her flying, give her some tips. That okay?"

"Sure. Figure she can use my Nimbus, too. You know the school brooms are pants when it comes to acceleration and maneuverability." Harry tried not to show how much it smarted that he'd be sitting in the stands for the remaining three matches of the season.

Ron smiled kindly in understanding. "That's right generous of you, mate. I know how much that broom means to you, I'll make sure she knows how to maintain it, and I'll even double-check her work myself."

Nodding his thanks, Harry raised his hand to get Ginny's attention, walking over to her before she could sit down in one of the chairs. "Hey, I hear you're going to be filling in for me."

She blushed brightly, her freckles almost disappearing beneath the deep red color of her cheeks. "Um, yea."

"Ron said you wanted me to give you a few pointers. Is now okay? I still have about two hours before detention with Lockhart."

"Sure!" she squeaked, before running back up the steps to change.

Ron chuckled and Hermione rolled her eyes, but Lavender stood up and walked over to where he waited for Ginny. She reached out and lightly touched his elbow, her brown eyes warm with affection. "That's a really nice thing you're doing for her."

Harry shrugged. "I just don't want to let the House down because of- because of what I did." Her smile was beaming, and Harry felt a touch of warmth. ' _Probably from standing too close to the fireplace',_ he thought idly, unable to look away from her for some reason.

"Are you ready?" Ginny asked, rather impatiently in his opinion, from her spot at the foot of the stairs. ' _Wait, how long had they been standing there staring at each other?'_

"Ah, right, sure. Let me just grab my bag. Bye Ron, Hermione!" Lavender, with one last squeeze, released his arm. "Bye Lavender."

* * *

Luna was getting worried. She hadn't been able to find her homework _or_ her wand, and it was nearly dinner time. It would be bad enough getting a Troll on her Transfiguration assignment, but what would she do about her other classes if she didn't have a wand? She'd asked a prefect for help, but all she did was try a Summoning Charm in her dorm room, to no avail.

Walking outside, her posture slumped and eyes downcast, Luna sighed. ' _I guess I'll have to ask Professor Flitwick for help'_ , though the thought of admitting she'd lost her wand was humiliating. Her professors had already fussed at her for keeping it behind her ear in the past.

Movement near the quidditch pitch caught her attention, and she watched as Ginevra and Harry walked out together, each of them holding a broom. Luna started in their direction, picking up on the tail end of their conversation.

"-promise I'll take good care of it. I'll polish it every night!"

"I know you will; Ron'd never let you get away with mistreating it!" They both laughed, though Harry's sounded more forced than Ginny's. "I'll put away the school broom. You did good out there, the 'Puffs won't know what hit them!"

"T-thanks, Harry," she replied, a tremendous blush breaking out over her face before she raced away, running right past Luna without a second glance, like… like she wasn't there at all.

"Hello."

"Hi Luna, why the frown?"

Luna weighed whether or not to tell him. ' _Would he laugh at her, too?'_ "I- I've misplaced something else. Something more important."

"'Something else'? What did you lose before?"

"My Transfiguration homework. Remember? Last night in the Seventh Floor corridor?"

Harry looked like a nest of wrackspurts had just taken root in his brain. "I… I _don't_ remember, sorry. It hasn't been a great week for me. What did you lose today?"

"My wand," she tried to say confidently, but despite her best efforts, it came out as barely a whisper.

He smiled, and her heart sank. ' _Not him, too!'_ , she thought, but rather than laugh at her, he set the school broom in his hand on the ground and swung his bag around, opening it up and rooting inside for something.

"Is this it?"

Her jaw dropped. There, in his outstretched hand, was ten and a half inches of oak and dragon heartstring. "You found it!" she cried, nearly knocking him to the ground as she collided with him.

Harry delicately placed one arm around her, his response hesitant compared to her furious embrace. "It was in my bag when I got up this morning. I don't know how it could have got there, I'm sorry."

Pulling back a little to look at him, she could tell he was sincere. "It was the nargles, Harry," she informed him, very seriously.

"What are nargles?"

"Mischievous sprites that like to steal things. They're quite a bother, and apparently they've made their way into the castle."

"Well I'm glad that I could get it back to you. I had no idea whose wand it was."

"Me too," she said cradling it with both hands. "It's dragon heartstring, from a Welsh Green, and oak. Ten and a half inches, sturdy, and good for charms work."

"Sounds like a great wand," he replied, looking a little sad.

Luna wasn't sure what she said to upset him, but she was determined to cheer him up, especially after he'd found her wand. "That doesn't look like the broom you used in your last game."

He glanced down at the school broom at their feet. "No, it's one of the school's. I let Ginny take my broom for the rest of the year."

"That's rather generous of you. But won't you need it for quidditch?"

Harry gave her a strange look, and she wondered if she'd said something she shouldn't have. "I was kicked off the team. You didn't hear about what happened last week, in the corridor outside the Great Hall?"

"No." It was true; she'd received nothing but stony glares and silence from her yearmates since she'd cost Ravenclaw 75 points for skipping Potions. "What happened?"

He reached down, scooping up the shoddy broom and hefting it over his shoulder. "I got in trouble. I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Oh."

"I better go put this back and close up the equipment shed. I have detention in a few minutes."

"Okay." She wanted to make him feel better, make him smile again, but Luna didn't know how; not without knowing what was wrong. ' _Oh no! Had he spread his wrackspurts to her?'_ "Harry?"

He paused. "Yea?"

"Thank you. For finding my wand, I mean."

Shooting a crooked grin in her direction, he nodded. "I'll keep my eyes peeled for your essay, too. Maybe the nargles will slip it into my things again." That possibility didn't sound so bad to Luna.

"Thank you."

Luna felt a lightness inside her as she skipped back to the castle, a swell of happiness that continued throughout dinner. Even eating alone wasn't so bad. Luna had a friend, someone who was looking out for her.

Despite staying at the Library almost all the way until curfew, rewriting her essay didn't bother her - much. She floated along back to the dorms, going over her conversations with Harry that weekend. He'd seemed much happier on Halloween than he did earlier today. What was it he said? He'd been in trouble last week?

She answered the eagle door knocker's riddle, but paused on her way to the First Year's dorm, catching sight of her roommates crowded around a table studying together. Luna considered going over to say hello, but ultimately decided against it; no need to push her luck, and it had been a pretty great day already.

Seeing her missing essay sitting on her pillow, though, changed her mind. With a bright smile, she returned to the common room and approached the other four First Year girls. "Hi!"

"What is it, Lovegood?" Angie asked, not lifting her eyes off the parchment in front of her.

"Did one of you find my homework? It was on my bed when I went upstairs."

There were murmurs and shrugs, but no real response. Luna clasped both of her hands behind her back, bobbing back and forth. "Thank you. I spent the whole evening rewriting it, but I think that the original version was a lot better."

An awkward silence fell over her roommates, with Michelle finally looking up in her direction. "What? What do you _want_?"

Luna took the question in stride. "I was wondering if you'd heard anything about the corridor on the First Floor."

"You mean the destroyed wall down the corridor from the Great Hall? You don't know?" Luna shook her head, and Angie glanced furtively around the room. "Supposedly Potter was using dark magic and tried to bring down the whole castle."

"That doesn't sound like something that Harry would do," Luna replied with a frown.

"Here we go again," a new voice said, "Lovegood's going to tell us all about how, despite supposedly being best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, she doesn't know a single thing going on in his life!"

Luna turned, seeing Marietta Edgecombe leaning against the back of a couch with her arms crossed. "He _is_ my friend."

"Marietta…" Cho said quietly.

"What? She's an embarrassment to the House! Ravenclaws are supposed to be smart, not crazy as a loon!"

Roger Davies chuckled from his seat near the fire. "Loony Lovegood."

"Better watch out, or her old man might put an article about you in his paper," Eddie Carmichael said, laughing along with his quidditch captain. "Just think, all three of his subscribers would read all about it!"

"That's _enough!"_ Penelope Clearwater, the prefect that had helped her the other day, shouted out, her loud voice cutting through the raucous laughter in the common room. "Settle down, _some_ of us are trying to study!"

The assembled students generally complied, though smiles and giggles were still audible here and there. Luna stood, still as a statue, biting her lip and her breathing hitched.

"What are you still standing there for?" Michelle asked in a snotty tone. "You got your essay back, just go to bed, _Loony._ "

She didn't hesitate, running up the stairs and closing the curtains on her four-poster to cry in private.

* * *

**November 8, 1992**

"Hey! How was detention?"

Harry flopped down onto the sofa next to Lavender. "It was awful! That First Year, Creevey was there with his camera. We spent two hours posing for publicity photos. He says he's going to send them to the _Daily Prophet!_ "

"Aww, poor Harry," she said with a grin, gently patting the side of his head. "Must have been terrible for you."

"He's just lucky I don't have my wand. There's no way I could have held back from cursing him!" Harry whined dramatically. "What did I miss around here?"

"Hermione's off looking up the Chamber of Secrets in the Library, Ron's supervising his little sister's broom maintenance, and Parvati is visiting her sister."

"Oh, okay. I was kind of wondering what you were doing just sitting here by yourself."

"I was waiting for _you_ , silly. I figured you could probably use some company."

Harry glanced at her from the corner of his eye, feeling glad in a strange way. "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Well, uh, thanks." They sat together on the sofa, Harry staring at the fire, Lavender idly swaying her leg back and forth. He was acutely aware of each time her leg brushed against his, and struggled to come up with something to talk about. "Say, have you noticed Ron's been having a hard time with his classwork the past few weeks?"

She nodded. "Well, yea, of course." Harry turned fully to regard her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "It's his wand. Just because he sealed it up with Spell-o-tape doesn't mean it's fixed."

"But- how's he going to get through this year without a working wand?"

Lavender looked around, taking stock of which students were lounging in the common room. She leaned towards him, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Well, I heard that Ron hasn't told his parents, and asked his brothers not to, either. He doesn't want them to get angry that he needs a new one. Wands don't come cheap, you know."

"That's not fair! He was defending Hermione!"

Lavender shrugged, moving back to her original position. "He doesn't want to get in trouble with his folks, you know how it-" She abruptly closed her mouth, the color draining from her face. "Sorry."

Harry waved away her mumbled apology, jumping to his feet. "I'm going to see McGonagall. You want to come?"

"Now? But-, but curfew is in ten minutes, we'll never get there and back in time!"

"Yes we will," he grinned. "Just let me run up to my dorm real quick."

Harry ran up the steps, taking them two at a time, and quickly dug his invisibility cloak out of his trunk, stuffing it into a pocket and hurrying back to the common room. "Ready?"

Lavender hesitated. "We'll get in _so_ much trouble…"

"Do you trust me?"

She eyed him suspiciously, then nodded affirmatively. "I do."

Together, they ran through the corridors down to the Fourth Floor, where McGonagall's office was. Several sharp raps on the door later, and their stern Head of House opened the door to admit them.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Brown. I trust there is a good reason for you to be at my door several minutes past curfew?"

"Professor, I want you to let Ron use my wand for the rest of the year."

She blinked. "What?"

"His wand was damaged a few weeks ago, and he's been struggling with his classwork ever since. We can share my wand in class, and he can use it the rest of the time."

"Mr. Potter-"

"It's not like it's doing any good just sitting in the Headmaster's desk!"

"Mr. Potter, your concern for your friend is admirable, but I'm afraid I cannot grant your request. While I'm sure that you came here out of sincere concern, allowing your best friend to have unsupervised custody of _your_ wand, after your earlier actions is not a realistic option."

"But-"

She silenced him with a frosty look. "While I agree that Mr. Weasley's learning is being negatively affected by his damaged wand, loaning him your own is not going to happen."

"What if I bought him a new one?"

Lavender's eyes widened, and even McGonagall's impassive expression shifted slightly at that question. "That is very generous of you, but Molly and Arthur are unlikely to accept such charity. That being said, without Ronald making a formal request, I cannot contact them about his wand without his approval."

"What if... " his mind raced, thinking back to some of the more outlandish boasts that Lockhart had made during his detentions. "What if I set up a, uh, a fund of Galleons for students that need their wands replaced during school?"

His professor's face softened at his earnest request. "Harry, you shouldn't spend your money so frivolously. Your parents left that to provide for _your_ education."

Harry wasn't deterred. "Professor, if it weren't for Ron, my education would have come to an abrupt end last year, below the Third Floor corridor." Now Lavender's wide eyes were accompanied by a jaw dropping in surprise.

McGonagall weighed his expression, finally nodding. "I will speak with the Headmaster. If this is really what you want, you'll likely need to sign some documents in his office later this week." She looked over her shoulder at an ornate, antique clock hanging from the wall. "If that is all, you should return to Gryffindor Tower. I hope, for your sake, you do not run into Mr. Filch on the way." With that last comment, the door to her office closed.

"She didn't give us a note! Even if we avoid Filch, the prefects will catch us for sure!"

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," Harry said with a grin. "Or, rather, I've got _us_ covered!"

He pulled the invisibility cloak out of his pocket and with a swirl threw it around his shoulders. Holding it open with one arm, he beckoned her to step inside.

"Wow…" she murmured. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

He laughed softly in reply, and together they made their way back to the dorms with no trouble. And if Lavender pressed a little closer to him than was necessary on the walk, Harry didn't see any reason to mention it. All in all, by the time they got back, Harry would have had difficulty even recalling what had put him in such a bad mood earlier.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't last, when Colin Creevey's petrified body was discovered early the next morning.

**A/N: Phew! Two chapters in less than a week!**

**Some things happened 'off-screen' in this chapter; just in case it wasn't clear, Harry 'was' Tom when he encountered Luna on the Seventh Floor; he took her wand, and used it for the canon event that happened on Halloween in 2nd year. Hope that everyone caught that - way I see it, no one reading this story needs me to re-hash canon events for them ;)**

**Gosh I really love writing Luna. Story recommendation this chapter is (at the risk of being immodest), my new Harry/Luna oneshot, "Ring-Ring!". It's sappy, fluffy, and short; three things that I am very much NOT known for. I hope you enjoy.**

**Last thing: I took a COVID test yesterday morning. Haven't been feeling very good, so if for some reason I disappear, that's probably why. Be careful out there!**

**Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles**


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